


Ocean's Brawl

by FeaRauko



Category: Supernatural
Genre: "slowish" burn, (nobody dies that you'll miss), Alternate Universe - Pirate, Bi!Dean, Canon-Typical Violence, Cussing, Demisexual Castiel (Supernatural), Drinking, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, F/M, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Major Character Injury, Minor Character Death, Naval Battles, No longer warnings:, One Instance of Homophobia, Openly Bisexual Dean Winchester, Pirates, Racism, Shanties, Sharing Clothes, Slavery, Slow Burn, Team Free Will, WARNINGS:, almost bed sharing, but the fic revolves around slavery and freedom so be aware of that, but they're still idiots, historical themes, idiots to lovers, like...their beds are connected okay?, mentions of actual places/people, naval officer!Cas, no actual historical events, period fic, pirate!dean, pub songs, swashbuckling, they actually talk to each other, well...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-12
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2021-01-27 10:56:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 28
Words: 54,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21391012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FeaRauko/pseuds/FeaRauko
Summary: In a time of oppression, the Winchester brothers and their family of misfit pirates sail the seas attacking slave traders and offering the liberated passage to safe-havens, or–if they choose it–a home on the Impala as part of Team Free Will.Dean meets Castiel, a Naval Captain with orders to enlist him and his band of honorable sea rovers as privateers. Dean refuses, but they end up working together when Castiel offers his vessel as transport for some rescued slaves. Castiel, in turn, travels with Dean as collateral to ensure there is no foul play.Along the way, Castiel witnesses the horrors of slavery and begins to doubt his cause. He comes to admire this wild crew and their kind hearts…perhaps falling for one man in particular.Betas: Petrichora_Vellichor, aloha_cowgirl, and all-or-nothing-baby
Relationships: (that one's platonic but nobody believes them), Almost Dean/Pamela, Bobby Singer & Rufus Turner, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Charlie Bradbury/Gilda, Charlie and Gilda are brief, Donna Hanscum/Jody Mills, Ellen Harvelle/Bobby Singer, Kaia Nieves/Claire Novak, mentions of Benny/Andrea - Relationship, there's some flirting but it never makes it anywhere
Comments: 341
Kudos: 152
Collections: DCBB 2019, Demon Void Army - Family Album, Takeout Tacos, The Destiel Fan Survey Favs Collection





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aloha_cowgirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aloha_cowgirl/gifts), [Petrichora_Vellichor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Petrichora_Vellichor/gifts), [all-or-nothing-baby (BundleOfSoy)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BundleOfSoy/gifts), [UnfortunatelyObsessed](https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnfortunatelyObsessed/gifts).
**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys, look at the art. LOOK AT THIS ART. 3195 has seriously outdone themselves with how gorgeous it is. *heart eyes for days*
> 
> Also, look...there are not enough words to express how amazing this group is, but...just know that I will never be able to thank aloha_cowgirl, Petrichora_Vellichor, all-or-nothing-baby, and UnfortunatelyObsessed enough for all the hours they've spent pouring over this with me and letting me rant and cry and hash things out with/to them over the last several months. I have the best friends. Love you, fam.

_ Give me the ocean _

_ Give me the sand at its edge _

_ Give me its deepest deep _

_ Give me its crests and its peaks _

_ Give me the unknown monsters of the trenches _

_ Give me the dolphins dancing at the surface _

_ Give me the calm, glass-like water and the gentle breeze _

_ Give me the squall and the hurricane _

_ Give it to me _

_ I will embrace it _

_ I will let it swallow me whole _

_ Give it to me _

_ Even though I cannot hold it _

_ And I will let it overwhelm me _

_ Give it to me _

_ And let me love it _

_ Let me stand in wonder _

_ For it is something dangerous _

_ Something beautiful _

_ Something unfathomable _

_ Something _ ** _profound_ **

_ Give me something...wild _

_ ~ Rauko _


	2. Hoist the Colors

_ The King and his men _

_ Stole the Queen from her bed _

_ And Bound her in her bones _

_ The seas be ours and by the powers _

_ Where we will, we’ll roam _

_ ~ Hoist the Colours (Hans Zimmer) _

Dean stood at the bow of his ship, breathing in the familiar smell of brine and taking in what little view he could on such a cloudy night. The clouds were good. Darkness was their friend on nights like these, although the _ Impala’ _ s dark wood and black sails meant that _ his _ ship would be harder to spot at night than the enemy’s anyway. Every once in a while, the moon would peek through the clouds just enough that he could make out the outline of his target. He closed his eyes and let the warm, salty air whip around him. It was almost time.

There were quiet footsteps and then a presence next to him. “Hey, Dean.”

Dean smiled and opened his eyes, looking back out over the water. “Sammy.”

Sam leaned against the railing next to Dean. “Charlie’s back. We just pulled her up. She says it was a success.”

Dean grinned. “Awesome. Those bastards will be dead in the water.”

He had thought Charlie was nuts when she first suggested her plan. They had spotted the ship from a distance, heading their way. Charlie had talked them into dropping her and a few others in its path in a small rowboat so they could inconspicuously sneak up to the back of the ship as it passed and disable the rudder chain. The _ Impala _ would keep a safe distance to not be spotted, then come from behind to pick her up after the other ship had passed. 

Dean shook his head. “That girl’s a wizard.”

Sam laughed. “Right? I don’t know what we did without her.”

Dean thumped his hands against the railing. “Well, she certainly makes things easier, that’s for sure.” 

“Oh, and she also said to tell you that you’re a loser for doubting her and that you have to call her ‘Your Majesty’ and serve as her -and these were her words- ‘handmaid’ for a week as penance.”

Dean snorted. Chuck was a wizard...and also the little sister he’d never asked for. He rolled his eyes and moved on. “Bobby and Rufus got the gunners ready?”

“Yeah. They’re just waiting for the word.”

Dean nodded. “All right. I’ll go give it to them then…” he sighed, “and also remind the new ones to aim high. Can’t have a bunch of rookies blasting the cargo deck or sinking the ship.”

Sam huffed. “Oh, they know. I already heard Rufus threatening them within an inch of their lives.”

Dean smirked. He could imagine exactly how that speech had gone and the looks on everyone’s faces. “Good. Well...go take the helm. Line us up to attack from the port side. Don’t get dead.”

“You too, and be careful. See you when it’s time to board.”

Dean nodded and gave his brother’s shoulder a squeeze as he walked past. He made his way down to the gun deck, running his hands along the _ Impala _’s dark wooden planks as he descended the steps. 

It wasn’t long before Dean could hear Bobby’s gruff voice going over supplies with Garth and Jack while Rufus barked reminders at the gunners. When he stepped through the door, Rufus cut his eyes to him briefly but continued his speech. Bobby nodded in greeting. “How’s it looking up there, kid?”

Dean smiled at him. “We just pulled Charlie out of the water. Sam’s positioning us.” He turned to Rufus. “How do the teams look?”

Rufus paused his speech and rounded on Dean. “Damn _ green _ is how they look! Boy, if they-”

Bobby interrupted him and stepped in with a low growl. “Would you shut up, you old codger. You’re gonna freak the new ones out even worse than they already are,” he whispered. He then turned to Dean with a sigh. “Look, Rufus isn’t wrong_ ... _ ” he crossed his arms and surveyed the cannon teams for a moment before turning back, “but we’ve got some good, experienced leads who’ve been with us for years. They’ll be fine. _ And Rufus here _,” he added with a hand on Rufus’s shoulder, “is gonna keep an eye on them while I’m up top making sure the rest of you don’t kill yourselves, ‘cause that’s what he and I get for being the old men on this ship.”

“Who’re you calling an old man?”

“If the shoe fits…”

“I’m not old, you bastard. They’re just too young!”

“Oh, I’m _ sorry. _ Do you need me to hug you and tell you you’re still pretty?” Bobby teased. 

Rufus clenched his fists. Dean could practically see the steam coming out of Rufus’s ears. He shoved down his laughter at their spat and worked to school his face. “Well, uh, if you two are done with your little lovers’ quarrel, have the teams to line up on the port side cannons, would you?”

“Our wha-” Rufus started, eyes almost popping out of his head. He glared at Dean a long moment, then just huffed. “Fine. And good...I don’t think the starboard could take another beating right now,” he grumbled before turning to the gunners. “All right, everyone, you heard ‘em! Get your asses in gear and make ready on the port side!”

Bobby sidled up to Dean while the gunners took positions. “Dean...we can’t do this again without stopping somewhere. Rufus was right about the starboard side. We ain’t gonna sink...but supplies are low, and some stuff ain’t really done right.”

Dean put his hands on his hips and looked up at the ceiling. “I know, Bobby. I wasn’t planning this one. You know that. But when I saw that ship...Bobby, you recognized it too. You know what it is.”

Bobby grunted. “I know. The _ Hannibal’s _ one of the biggest ones out there right now. We can’t just run up on it and not take this chance. They’ve got to be carryin’ at least…” Bobby shook his head and huffed in disgust. “Look, I ain’t sayin’ we should have left them. I’m just sayin’ that after this, we HAVE to port or we’ll never sail again. Never mind that there already ain’t much food or bunk room left.”

Dean dragged a hand over his face. “Who’re you tellin’? At least you ain’t gotta cuddle with my behemoth of a brother when it gets crowded.” He chuckled. “Look, we’re not too far north of Nassau. We’ll stop there for a few days and take care of supplies and repairs while we find safe passage for the ones who want to go to Florida. Then we can head to Port Royal with the others.” He clapped Bobby on the shoulder and then spoke up so the rest of the crew could hear. “All right, everyone! Jody! Donna! Set your teams up at the end and aim for the back of the ship first. Let’s see if we can’t take out those officers’ quarters before they’re vacated. The rest of you, focus on the gundeck. Benny, Bobby, with me. We’re gonna take the swivel guns up top. Claire’s already up there waiting for us. Rufus, give us about three minutes to get into position, then call the first fire.” Dean paused and thought for a moment. “Hey, Jack?”

“Yes, Dean?”

“They’re stocked for a couple rounds right?”

“Of course.”

“Then do me a favor before you come back to run powder...” Dean paused and watched as understanding lit up Jack’s face and he smiled in anticipation; this was his favorite thing. Dean winked at him. “Hoist the colors, kid.”

_ _

The moon peeked from behind the clouds as Dean and the others stepped out onto the main deck. It lit the night just enough for Dean to be able to see movement on the deck of the enemy ship. Of course, this level of moonlight meant that the enemy could now see them as well. 

Dean nodded to Claire and readied himself at the cannon, grinning in anticipation. It didn’t matter if the enemy could see them now. It was already too late.

The call rang out from the gundeck below...

“FIRE!”


	3. People Ain’t Cargo, Mate

_ And there's still a kid somewhere that needs to hear this _

_ Somebody cares, that somebody knows _

_ Who's tired of bleeding and battered and being torn up _

_ Just pick yourself up, it's time to go _

_ ~ We Fight (Dashboard Confessional) _

Dean’s feet landed hard on the enemy ship, followed shortly by those of his crew. They were met by a mob of men charging them, swords drawn. Dean and his crew ripped through them with no mercy. There would be no pity for sailors who were “just doing the best they could” or “simply following orders.” If they deemed their best to be the capture and transport of slaves–if they didn’t have it in them to deny orders that said it was okay to take people as possessions–then the Winchesters and the rest of “Team Free Will” (as other pirates had taken to calling them) would have no empathy for these monsters.

The _ Hannibal’s _ planks grew slick with blood and entrails as Dean and his crew fought to clear the top deck. Dean wrinkled his nose against the smell. He may have been experienced enough not to lose his lunch, but death wasn’t exactly an odor you got _ used _ to.

Dean sidestepped an incoming sword and relieved its wielder of his bowels. He heard Jody cry out from behind him and spun to see that she had taken a shot to the leg. _Shit._ _We forgot the…_

Dean looked up at the crow’s nest, where the offending rifleman was reloading his musket. 

Before Dean could even call the order, Jack, Garth, and Benny were making their way up the masts to take out the scouts. Dean grinned proudly as he cut down his next opponent, making his way to Jody. He had the best team.

He reached down and helped Jody to her feet. “You all right?”

She cringed as she tried to put weight on her injured leg. “I’ll make it. Don’t worry about me, kiddo. You just go do what we came here for.” 

Dean couldn’t help his smile as he hugged her to his side, helping her walk back to the edge of the ship. He sat her against the railing and hollered for Claire.

Claire waved in acknowledgment before decapitating her current opponent. She looked downright feral...all wide-eyed with blood spattered across her face and making her usually blonde hair dark and matted with blood; still, she seemed unharmed as she came running over.

“Yeah, what’s–” Her eyes grew wide as they landed on Jody. “Oh shit.” 

Jody rolled her eyes. “I’m fine. I just–” Jody’s protests were cut off and she grunted as Dean applied pressure to the wound.

Dean shook his head. “Yeah, ‘course you are.” He looked up. “Claire, guard Jody and help her get this bleeding under control. Here...” He pulled out his second pistol and handed it to her. “Take this. Extra ammo. The deck’s mostly clear, but you’re bound to have some that slip past us and come up as we work our way to the hold.”

Claire took the pistol and nodded as she crouched by Jody, pulling a sash from her waist to use as a tourniquet. “Don’t worry, I got her. You guys go relieve those bastards of their precious _ ‘cargo,’ _” she spat.

Dean nodded and stood. As he turned to leave, Claire called out behind him. “Hey, old man!”

Dean turned back to her with raised eyebrows and an annoyed look. “_Yes?_” 

“Take a few heads for me, huh?”

Dean grinned. “You got it.” He shook his head as he turned back to the fight. The kid was wild, but she was in good company. _ Guess growing up on a pirate ship will do that to you. _

When the last piece of slime had been cut down, Dean called out to his crew, “All right, people! Let’s head below and set some things right!”

Sam stood next to his brother in the cargo hold, his eyes gradually adjusting to the lack of light. This...this would never not make him sick. He took a breath to steady himself. 

The people were packed in, chained to the floor with barely enough room to sit. Even worse, the level had even been split horizontally, resulting in two four-foot levels, making it impossible to move without hunching over, in order to fit more…_ cargo_. 

Some of the people who were close enough to be seen in the dim light stared up at Sam and Dean defiantly; others cowered down, not knowing that they didn’t have to be afraid. 

Sam swallowed. He told himself that he absolutely would not cry, but he couldn’t help the tears welling up. He felt a hand on his shoulder.

It was Dean’s. He didn’t look at Sam, just nodded as he also surveyed the hold. “Yeah...me too, Sammy.”

Sam took a deep breath. “Yeah.” 

Bobby and Rufus approached; the two had been speaking with a few of the prisoners. Bobby huffed a sound of disgust as he reached Sam’s side.

Dean looked at him. “What is it, Bobby?”

Bobby frowned. “They’re sayin’ they know the deal...that they were prisoners before and still are, just with different owners.”

Sam’s stomach churned. He set his jaw. “Hey, Bobby, will you translate for me?”

Bobby nodded. “’Course, Sam.”

Sam stepped forward and took a deep breath. This was important. He squared his shoulders and faced the people before him, crammed together in this stupid “cargo” hold. 

_ People aren’t cargo. _

“Everyone, please listen!” He paused to give Bobby time to translate. “I don’t know how you came to be on this ship. I don’t know why some people believe they get to own other people...but they _ don’t. _ You are free.” He clenched his fists. “And that’s not because anyone here is setting you free. You’re free because you’re human, because you’re people; and people aren’t property.”

Sam took a moment before continuing, trying to let what he was saying sink in. “You are free to do what you want from here...but if you’re willing to trust us, we would like to help; and there are a few ways that we can. 

“Our ship will be going to Nassau from here, where we can secure safe passage to Spanish Florida for those who would want to go. You’ll be safe there from slavers, and you can settle down, but asylum seekers _ are _ required to convert to Catholicism, so there’s that...but for anyone wanting a quiet life, it’s probably the best option.”

As Bobby translated, the people began looking around at each other hesitantly; some began to whisper amongst themselves. Sam continued. “From Nassau, we will sail to Port Royal, along with anyone who wishes to come with us. We have a network of people there who can help you get on your feet...find work, homes, that sort of thing. It’s less restrictive than Florida, but it’s a little...rowdy.” Sam dropped his head and smiled to himself; he loved the place, but he knew it wasn’t for everyone. 

He schooled his face and looked back up to continue. “If there is anyone who would like passage back to Africa, we are making a trip after autumn, when the seas are fair again. You could take refuge in Port Royal until that time.”

Dean spoke up beside him. “On the other hand, if there are any of you who wanna stick around and join us, fight with us, help us raise hell against bastards like the ones who put you here...we could always use a few more good swords in this fight!”

Sam nodded. “Yes, we would welcome anyone who wants to sail with us. And for the record, any of you who choose that option would be able to leave and pursue another path whenever you’re ready. This life isn’t for everyone, and you are free to do with yours as you choose.” Sam sighed. “Just so you know, we don’t expect an answer tonight. We’re sure you’re tired, as are we. For now, please join us on our ship. We have food, beds, and clothes for everyone who wants them. So clean up. Rest. Eat. We can talk and make decisions in the morning. But first things first..._ let’s get you out of those chains. _”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter title actually comes from a deleted scene between Becket and Jack in the third Pirates of the Caribbean movie.
> 
> Beckett: We had a deal, Jack. I contracted you to deliver cargo on my behalf. You chose to liberate it.  
Jack: People aren't cargo mate.
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X3I0FF2i_MA


	4. A Pub Called Perdition

_ I drink a little more than recommended _

_ This world ain't exactly what my heart expected _

_ just Tryin' to find my way someway, oh I, oh I, oh I _

_ C'est, whoa, c'est la vie _

_ Maybe something's wrong with me _

_ But, whoa, at least I am free, ohhhh I am free _

_ ~ Free (Rudimental) _

It took just over two days to get to Nassau, which was good, as they had taken on another three hundred twenty-eight passengers from the _ Hannibal _. Add that to the people that they had found the week before, and everyone was double-bunked. All of the cots in the sick bay were being used. Some were sleeping in palettes on the floor. Of course, all of this was better than sleeping in a cramped, sitting-space-only cargo hold...but sharing a small bunk with his moose of a brother was still more cramped than Dean would prefer. At least Sam’s tendency towards early rising let him spread out for an hour or two in the morning. 

Dean draped an arm over his face and sighed. Three hundred twenty-eight. They had brought on three hundred twenty-eight people who had been ripped from their homes and families and sold across the water. They had also learned from the ledgers on the ship that there had originally been _ six hundred ninety-two _ people in that cargo hold...over half of them had died during the voyage. It made Dean sick.

Even after Sam and Dean had spoken to them through Bobby, the survivors had been wary. _ Not without reason, _ Dean had thought. Some had tried to fight. The crew had been able to convince them to calm down without any injuries, but it would never not hurt Dean to see people so frightened. Still, although it made things difficult, it almost encouraged him when people tried to fight; if they were ready to fight for themselves...it meant their spirits weren’t broken. It was a good thing.

Dean hoped that some of these people would stay and join the crew, but it wasn’t something that he would require of them. This life was a hard one, and they had been through enough; they deserved a peaceful life if they wanted it. And yet, much of Dean's crew was made up of people who had chosen to stay after being freed from captivity. Even he, Sam, and other senior members of the crew had such backgrounds. Perhaps it was part of the reason that these newcomers fit in with them so well.

Sam’s face poked through the bunk room door, bringing Dean out of his thoughts. “Hey, Dean? We’re docked. Charlie and Benny are going on ahead to start finding supplies. Bobby’s gonna stay behind so he can help translate and stuff, but he gave them his list. Rufus, Jody, Donna, and Garth are gonna see if they can find somewhere discreet to trade some of the wares we found on the _ Hannibal _for munitions.” Sam paused a moment and studied him still lying in the bunk. “You ready? We’ve got a lot of people choosing the Florida route, and we need to set everything up for them.”

Dean chuckled. “Sounds like you got it handled. Maybe I should make you captain.” He peeked an eye open to look at his brother from where he lay.

Sam rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”

Dean chuckled and stretched in his bunk. “Yeah, I’m ready. Gimme five and I’ll meet you up top.”

They were successful in completing the day’s tasks, mostly. Charlie and Benny were able to secure the necessary food and supplies to stock the ship and begin repairs. The munitions crew wasn’t able to procure as much as they would have liked...but honestly, in their line of work, no amount was ever as much as they would have liked.

Sam and Dean, however, faced somewhat of a problem. The waters between Nassau and Florida were heavily patrolled, so taking the rescued slaves to Florida themselves on the _ Impala _ was not a viable option. They needed to be smuggled on a trade ship...but they were finding that none of the crews they usually worked with were currently in Nassau, and it wasn’t like they could trust just anyone with this. 

And so, it seemed as though they would be in Nassau longer than planned. True, they had roughly a week before repairs would be complete anyway, but it made Dean’s skin itch being on land too long. It was too easy for unwanted encounters, too easy for the wrong people to catch up with them.

While most of the gang headed back to the ship, Dean, Sam, Charlie, and Benny looked for a place to stay for the night. They found an inn called Perdition that had three rooms available above the pub downstairs. Charlie would go back to the ship tomorrow to help oversee repairs in Dean’s absence (a thing that Dean felt would literally kill him if it weren’t for his trust in Charlie), but she still had a few things she wanted to try to find the next day before returning. Benny assured them the rest of the kitchen would be fine without him for a few days while he helped Sam and Dean find a way to ferry people to Florida.

They paid the innkeeper for the rooms, Sam and Dean taking the shared one, and made their way upstairs. Charlie spoke up as they reached the top floor. “Hey, I appreciate it and all, but I really don’t mind sharing a room with one of you. I totally trust you, and it doesn’t make a lot of sense to put the two biggest guys here in a bed together…”

Benny adjusted the bag on his shoulder and gave Dean a teasing grin. “Or Dean could just sleep with me.” 

“Ha! Don’t you wish.” Dean winked at Benny as he opened the door to his and Sam’s room. He looked back to Charlie. “And don’t worry about it, Chuck. I appreciate the offer, though.” He grinned at her. “Besides...you may be half Sam’s size, but you take up twice the bed space. At least Sam doesn’t kick me in his sleep. Besides, I might actually have a chance at sleep if you and your snoring are safely down the hall.”

Charlie smacked Dean on the shoulder. “Hey, now...but,” she shrugged,  
“you’re not without a point. Anyway, what do you boys say we get washed up and meet back downstairs in fifteen? I wouldn’t mind throwing a few back before bed.” She looked Dean over appraisingly, and added, “And, honestly, you look like you could use a drink.”

Dean grinned and slung an arm over her shoulders. “Charles, you read my mind.” 

Dean laughed over the sound of Charlie and Benny slamming down their glasses. “Another!” she yelled as Dean and Sam walked to the bar for another round. Dean grinned. Charlie’s definition of a _ few _never failed to disappoint. The barkeep laughed and waved an acknowledgment, already filling four more pints.

Dean grinned at her from where he leaned against the bar. “Thanks. Add a couple shots while you’re at it, would ya.”

She slid the pints toward him and reached for a bottle. “You got it, handsome. Your friends are awful rowdy tonight.” 

Sam chuckled and gave her an apologetic smile. “Yeah. Sorry about that.”

She shook her head. “Don’t be. I like them.” She smiled as she looked over at where Charlie and Benny sat at the table. “They make a really cute couple.”

Dean spewed his drink while Sam cracked up next to him. “Oh god…” Dean coughed a couple times and tried to get his own fit under control, “I’m gonna tell them you said that.”

The bartender gave him a confused look. “So, they’re not a couple?”

Dean shook his head. “Oh _ hell _ no. Benny’s heart belongs to someone else, and Charlie? Well, uh, let’s just say that Benny’s not her type.” 

She raised an eyebrow at Dean. “By that, are you saying that _ I’m _ more her type?”

Dean held up his hands. “Look, I’m not trying to say anything more than they’re not together. Anything more ain’t really my business to share.” He smirked. “Why, you interested?”

She laughed and passed him four filled shot glasses. “Nah. I like ‘em a little taller. Your rowdy friends are in good company here, though, no matter what you’re trying to say. I’m Pamela, by the way.” 

Dean glanced around the room. Pamela was right: he and his family seemed to fit in pretty well here. He reached across the counter and shook her hand. “Dean. And this is Sam,” he said, nodding to his brother.

She smiled. “Pleasure. Now carry these drinks over to your friends, would ya? The whiskey’s on the house. My treat.”

“Pamela, you’re an angel.”

She laughed and winked at them as Sam grabbed some of the glasses and began carrying them to the table. “Not quite.” She put a hand on her hip and ran her eyes over Sam as he walked away. “That one might get to find out, if he’s willing to play.”

Dean laughed and carried the rest of the drinks to join the others. When Benny saw the whiskey shots, his eyes grew big. “Well...what do we have here, brother?”

Charlie jumped up and leaned over the table. “Dude, is that…?”

Dean laughed. “Whiskey, my friends. Courtesy of that not-quite-angel behind the bar.” He looked at his brother. “She’s into you, by the way.

Sam laughed. “Sure, Dean.” He looked down at the shots. “Please tell me you all remember we actually have to get up in the morning.”

Dean gave him his best affronted look. “Of course! But I have _ never _ let fear of a hangover get in the way of a good time. Besides, a couple of shots won’t kill us.”

“Famous last words.”

Charlie grabbed the one in front of her. “Hey, we can’t turn down a gift, now, can we?” She downed her shot and slammed the glass on the table. “Besides, whiskey’s a treat. It’s usually just tequila and rum in these parts.”

Movement in the corner of Dean’s eye caught his attention as a man walked through the door alone. This wasn’t remarkable...but the man, well, _ was _. He wore dark pants and boots with a white shirt and a long tan coat. His clothing was fairly discreet and did nothing to denote any sort of status, but the way that he carried himself certainly did. He seemed confident, if maybe a little stiff, and he looked a bit too straight-laced for a rowdy pub called Perdition. His head was held too high. His eyes were too serious. His hair, on the other hand...had a wild, freshly-fucked look that Dean was doing his best not to notice.

Dean turned his attention back to his friends, picked up his shot glass, and put the man from his mind. He was trouble. And sure, Dean was trouble too...but that man looked like the too official, rule-bound sort of trouble that Dean and his crew absolutely did not need. 

It didn’t take long before the man was forgotten, and Dean was caught up in the sound of Charlie and Benny banging a slow rhythm onto the table with their empty shot glasses, other people around the bar gradually joining in, keeping up the steady beat. 

Charlie jumped onto the table and stomped along with her boot, thrusting her pint in the air.

_ I'll eat when I'm hungry, I'll drink when I'm dry, _

_ If the hard times don't kill me, I'll lay down and die _

_ Rye whiskey, rye whiskey, rye whiskey I cry _

_ If you don't give me rye whiskey I surely will die _

_ I'll tune up me fiddle and rosin my bow _

_ I make myself welcome, wherever I go _

_ Beefsteak when I'm hungry, red booze when I'm dry _

_ Doubloons when I'm hard up and religion when I die _

_ They say I drink whiskey, my money's my own _

_ And them that don't like me, can leave me alone _

_ Sometimes I drink whiskey, sometimes I drink rum _

_ Sometimes I drink brown ale and other times none _

_ I'll eat when I'm hungry, I'll drink when I'm dry _

_ If the hard times don't kill me, I'll lay down and die _

_ Rye whiskey, rye whiskey, rye whiskey I cry _

_ If you don't give me rye whiskey I surely will die _

  
  
She pulled Benny up to stand on his chair. He and Charlie were almost the same height with him on the chair and her on the table, which drunk Dean found way more amusing than it actually was. Benny threw an arm around her and took over the next verse.

_ My foot on a ship deck, her scarf in my hand _

_ I pray sweet Andrea, she'll find a good man _

_ Her parents don't like me, they say I'm too poor _

_ Unfit and unworthy to enter her door _

_ Sweet milk when I'm hungry, rye whiskey when dry _

_ If a tree don't fall on me, I'll live 'till I die _

_ I'll buy my own whiskey and make my own stew _

_ And when I get drunk all, it's because of you _

_ I'll eat when I'm hungry, I'll drink when I'm dry, _

_ If the hard times don't kill me, I'll lay down and die _

_ Rye whiskey, rye whiskey, rye whiskey I cry _

_ If you don't give me rye whiskey I surely will die _

They continued this way for a while, alternating verses while the whole bar gradually joined in for the chorus. They even managed to get a verse out of Sam. After a few rounds, they paused their singing but continued to stomp out the beat as they eyed Dean meaningfully, waiting. 

“All right, fine,” he grumbled as he stood and climbed onto his own chair. They weren’t fooled: they knew he loved this. _ On second thought_...Dean hopped off of his chair, ran across the room, and jumped up onto the bar, giving Pamela a wink as Benny whooped at him from their table and she handed him another glass. He lifted it into the air.

_ But if I get boozy, my whiskey's my own _

_ And them that don't like me, can leave me alone! _

_ Jack o' Diamonds, Jack o' Daniel's I know you of old _

_ You've robbed me poor pockets of silver and gold _

_ Oh whiskey, you villain, you've been my downfall _

_ You've kicked me, you've cuffed me, but I love you for all _

_ If the ocean were whiskey and I was a duck _

_ I'd dive to the bottom and drown to get drunk _

_ I'll eat when I'm hungry, I'll drink when I'm dry _

_ If things don't get better, I'll lay down and die _

_ Rye whiskey, rye whiskey, rye whiskey I sigh _

_ If I've run out of rye whiskey I might as well die _

Charlie worked her way around the tables and over to Dean as he jumped down from the bar. “Dude, check it...” she said, grinning and leaning against the bar next to him. She nodded towards a cute brunette in the corner. “I think she’s into me.”

Dean laughed. “Oh yeah?”

Charlie proceeded to give Dean some explanation that included the woman’s name, the exact number of times their eyes had met, a description of her posture when this happened, and something about their hands brushing when they passed each other once.

Dean smiled and raised his eyebrows. “Well, what are you waiting for? Go get her, tiger.” He winked, spun Charlie around, and pushed her in the direction of the girl before turning to the bartender. “Rum this time, if you have it.” 

Sam leaned against the bar next to him. “Pamela, could I get a glass of water?”

Dean rolled his eyes at him as Pamela walked over with rum and water. “There you are, boys.” She leaned over the bar, looking suggestively at Sam. “Anything else I can get you? Sure you just want the water?”

Sam cleared his throat. “Uh, this is fine. Thanks.”

“Well, just let me know if you change your mind.” She winked as she walked away to tend to some customers at the other end of the bar.

Dean smacked his brother’s arm. “Dude! She’s obviously into you. Loosen up and have some fun every now and then.”

Sam glared. “I do, Dean. But there’s a lot to think about tomorrow, and at least _ one _ of us should not be exhausted and hungover as we do it.”

“Whatever, man.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Hey, I’m here aren’t I?” Sam said, gesturing to himself, then around the room. “I’m just keeping a slightly slower pace, and I’m gonna retire a little earlier. You’re acting like I went to bed as soon as we got here.” He set his glass down. “Besides, I don’t see you trying for any extra fun, and don’t think I missed the way you checked out tall, dark, and mysterious when he came in.”

“Dude, that guy was the wrong kind of trouble and you know it.”

Sam shrugged. “Fair.” He downed his glass of water. “Well, I think I’m heading up to the room. Stay out of trouble, okay?”

Benny appeared behind him. “I actually think I’m going to retire as well, brother. I’ll see you boys in the morning.”

Dean nodded. “Sure. Night, guys.” Sam gave him a pointed look. Dean rolled his eyes. “Dude, don’t worry. I’ll call it in a few. Just let me make sure Charlie doesn’t get into any trouble.”

Benny shook his head. “Good luck with that.”

“Ha, thanks. Now, go to bed.” He looked at Sam. “I’ll be up soon. Promise.” Dean waved them off as they headed for the stairway. 

Dean looked over to where Charlie and the brunette (_ had Charlie said her name was Gilda?) _ were leaned against the wall talking, standing juuuuuust about as close as two people could without raising some eyebrows. Dean watched as the woman reached up and ran her fingers through Charlie’s hair, then allowed them to trail over her shoulder and down her arm before stepping in close and whispering something in Charlie’s ear. Charlie’s face turned a shade of red that almost matched her hair. Dean laughed. For all of Charlie’s bluster and confidence, she never seemed to get over her ability to blush. 

He waved Pamela down for another drink. “Just water this time. I’m about to turn in.”

“You got it,” she said, handing him a glass. “I see your tall friend has given up.”

“Ha, yeah. My brother may be younger than me, but he has the heart and habits of an old man.”

She leaned over the bar to Dean. “Hmm, are there any _ other _ways you might be more exciting than your brother?” She raised an eyebrow suggestively.

“Oh, trust me, I’m more exciting in a lot of ways.” He grinned. “Why? You lookin’ to give it a try?”

“Maybe...I, uh, noticed you two were sharing a room. My apartment's in the back if you’d prefer not to disturb Grumpy. Unless…” She gave him a sly grin and let the statement trail.

It took Dean a moment to catch her meaning. “Oh. No. Oh, _ hell _ no. Grumpy is _ not _ invited. Don’t get me wrong, I’m down for a threesome of whatever ratio you wanna involve...but with my brother? I’m drawing the line.”

She laughed. “Fair enough. Our own room it is,” she said with a wink. 

_ Hell yeah. _ Dean had been at sea for four months, and this was just the sort of land therapy he needed. 

“HEY!!” Dean heard a crash behind him. He turned to see what the commotion was just in time to witness Charlie being tossed against the wall by a man twice her size yelling, “That’s _ my _ woman, you disgusting bitch!”

_ Here we go… _

Dean rapped his knuckles on the bar as he stood. “Hey, Pamela, I might need a raincheck,” he said before running to get between the man and Charlie. “Hey! HEY!” he faced the man. “What seems to be the problem here?”

The man spat. “Not that it’s _ your _ business, but the problem here is that I’ve had me eyes on this wench all week, and now this twisted whore wants to steal her from under me!”

Dean grit his teeth and tried to remain calm. “First of all, just ‘cause you’ve been watching someone doesn’t make them yours. It makes you a creep. Secondly, call my friend a twisted whore one more time and-”

“Disgusting. Sick. Twisted. _ Gay. _ Whor-” 

_ Well, that’s enough staying calm. _

Dean punched the man in the face, causing him to stumble back. The guy raised a hand to his jaw with a shocked expression. He should have moved on and dropped it. 

He didn’t.

When the guy charged back at him, Dean kicked him square in the chest, sending him crashing back over the table behind him. 

And they were off…

Problem was, the jerk wasn’t alone. Apparently, half the people in Perdition either had some affection for this sorry bastard...or they just liked a good brawl. It wasn’t long before Dean and Charlie found themselves back-to-back with Gilda tucked protectively between them, surrounded on all sides, fighting to hold back the crowd of people who suddenly thought it was their mission in life to thrash them. He could vaguely hear Pamela’s voice hollering over the brawl for people to calm down and back off, but it was hard to stop a fight once it had started. 

Now, Dean and Charlie were experienced, scrappy...but they were also way outnumbered and having to protect someone who wasn’t proving to be much help. Dean flung his next opponent through the closest window, shattering the glass. “Chuck! Get her out of here!”

Charlie shook her head as she landed a punch. “No!”

Dean shoved her toward the open window. “I said go!” He flung himself at a man who was blocking her way, knocking him to the ground, as Charlie grabbed Gilda’s hand and jumped through the window with the woman in tow. Dean nodded. _ Good. _ The commotion was mostly inside, and at this point, most people seemed more interested in the fight itself than the reason behind it. Charlie and Gilda would be fine. He, on the other hand…

Dean took a chair to the back of the head as he moved to stand. Perdition swirled around him. The last things he noticed as the world became dark were a loud peal of thunder and strong hands taking hold of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song that they sing in the pub is called Rye Whiskey. It's an old song. I'm not sure of it's origins, though there have been several recorded versions of it. The oldest recording I've found is from 1928, but my personal favorite is one done by The Pirates Charles. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Db7m1DiUItY


	5. The Barn

_ A recruiting sergeant came our way. _

_ From an Inn near town at the close of day _

_ He said my Johnny you're a fine young man _

_ Would you like to march along behind a military band _

_ With a scarlet coat and a fine cocked hat _

_ And a musket at your shoulder _

_ The shilling he took and he kissed the book _

_ Oh poor Johnny what'll happen to ya? _

_ ~ The Cruel Wars (The Dreadnoughts) _

  
  


Dean’s head pounded. He struggled to remember what was happening. There was a fight...Charlie had…

_ CHARLIE! _

Dean struggled to sit up. 

“Ah, he wakes," a low voice hummed above him. "You took quite a hit, Dean Winchester.”

Dean jolted and jumped to his feet, then stumbled back to his knees, 'cause his damn head was still swimming. He looked up at the man standing over him, slowly coming into focus. “Who are you?”

The stranger furrowed his eyebrows as he regarded Dean. “I’m the one who gripped you tight and pulled you from Perdition.”

_ What the...who the fuck even talks like that? _ Dean blinked and fought the urge to laugh. He tried to think back. He vaguely remembered someone grabbing him and pulling him up as he blacked out. He shook his head. He didn’t have time for this. “Yeah, okay, Mr. Dramatic...you got a name?”

The man raised an eyebrow. “Castiel.”

Dean nodded and stood, a little more slowly this time, his eyes finally able to focus on the man in front of him. 

_ Oh. _ It was _ him, _ Mr. “Wrong Kind of Trouble” from the pub, leaning against a work table looking casual as anything with his legs crossed in front of him. Dean narrowed his eyes. “So you pulled me out of that brawl, huh?”

Castiel nodded. 

Dean hummed and glanced around. It was still pretty dark, but there were starting to be the beginnings of a dim, morning light coming through the windows and spaces between the wooden boards of the walls. He took note of the worktables and tools surrounding them. They seemed to be in some sort of barn or smithy. He looked back at Castiel. “Where are we?”

“A barn next to the inn.”

“Why?”

“People were angry with you. It was close and safe.”

“I had a room.”

“I needed with speak to you, Dean...alone.”

Dean furrowed his brow. “Mind telling me how the fuck you know who I am?”

Castiel sighed. “I’ve known who you were for a long time. It was _ finding _ you that proved to be...difficult. We have work for you.”

Dean crossed his arms. “Like _ hell _ you do. Look, I don’t know who you are or what you think you want from me, but you’ve got the wrong man. Thanks for the assist in the pub, really, but I ain’t signing on to nothin’ just for a pair of strong hands and blue eyes. So, I’m sorry you wasted your time, but you go have a good life.” Dean moved to walk around him towards the door. Castiel followed his movement, blocking the way. Dean stepped the other way. Castiel extended an arm to catch him. 

“You don’t know the trouble it took to find you, Dean Winchester. I will not force you to ‘sign on’ to anything, but you _ will _ at least hear me out.”

Dean set his jaw. “Not a chance.”

He suddenly found himself slammed against the wall with Castiel pressed against him “Listen, boy...I have spent the last four months looking for you and your crew. Last night I diffused a brawl and pulled you from a room full of people who would have been happy to see you beaten to a pulp. I am a captain in the French Navy.” Castiel leaned in closer and quietly growled, “_ You should show me some respect. _”

Dean swallowed hard. His eyes raked across Castiel’s features, watched the lightning flash through his eyes. He tried his best not to notice how strong and hard Castiel felt against him, ‘cause now was decidedly _ not _the time for that but…

_ Wait...a captain in the...Fuck! _

Dean pushed Castiel off of him and reached for his sword, only to find it gone. _ Shit_. He dove away as Castiel stepped back into him, then jumped up and grabbed the first thing he could get his hands on. A crowbar. It would do. Dean turned and swung but was met with Castiel’s rapier.

Castiel tilted his head. “This isn’t wise, Dean.”

“Fuck you.” His next swing was also blocked. That was fine. He struck. Castiel parried. Dean moved. Castiel matched his steps.

_ Good. _

Dean continued to test the waters. Castiel continued to match him as he stepped around. _ Just a little more… _

Dean smiled. Castiel was no longer between him and the door. 

“Later.” Dean winked and turned to exit, but halted at a clanging sound above him. He looked up barely in time to jump out of the way as a bundle of equipment crashed to the ground in front of the door, followed by the slithering down of the rope that had held it up. Dean turned to see Castiel pulling his sword from a beam, just above a pulley holding a now short, cut-off length of rope. He looked at Dean and raised an eyebrow, lifting his head up just a little with a smirk.

_ This smug asshole… _

Dean stood and reached for a sword from a rack on the front wall. “So, we’re really gonna do this, huh?”

“Until you choose to hear me out.”

“Fine.”

They took a moment, measuring each other, circling each other slowly, both sizing up the other one. Now, Dean had been in more fights than he could count. He knew how to read people, how to recognize those who could handle themselves in a fight...and it was not hard to recognize that Castiel had an air of strength about him and the kind of confidence that couldn’t be faked. He watched Dean’s movements with a practiced eye, attentive but unconcerned. Dean smiled. This was going to be interesting.

Dean charged. He feinted a jab, using the momentum to duck around and attack from behind. Castiel saw through it. He blocked and grabbed at Dean, but Dean jumped back out of reach. Dean struck. Castiel parried. Castiel lunged. Dean dodged. The sound of steel on steel rang through the barn as rapiers clashed. Dean could taste the sweat rolling down his face and over his lips from the effort of their fight. Castiel was strong, relentless, and kept up a steady barrage of attacks. Dean was experienced, crafty, and strong himself, meeting Castiel’s attacks blow for blow.

It was a frustrating dance, neither of them able to gain any ground on the other. Dean was too fast for Castiel to land a hit. Castiel was too experienced to be caught off-guard by Dean’s usual feints and agility. They were matched, and Dean hated it...and also maybe loved it a little. It had been so long since he had been pushed like this. It lit something in him, thrilled him, excited him. He could really use someone like Castiel by his side, he thought, then berated himself for even entertaining the notion. 

Castiel began speaking to him between blows.

“My superiors believe that we could help each other, Dean.”

Dean huffed as he jumped over some boards on the ground. “Yeah, right.”

Castiel swung at him. “We _ do _ have aligned interests.”

“I doubt it.”

Castiel growled. “You’re impossible...”

Dean jumped onto a nearby workbench and spread his arms. “_I _ think I’m adorable_.” _ He winked and grabbed a rope overhead, swinging out and planting both feet in Castiel’s chest, knocking him over a hay bale behind him. Castiel came back up holding a chain that he slung at Dean, wrapping it around his leg and yanking him to the ground. Dean scrambled to his feet in time to block Castiel’s next attack but found himself pinned against a beam, Castiel’s sword inching towards his throat, face inches from his own.

“Are you ready to listen, Dean?”

Dean looked down at the blade. “I have to admit I’m becoming slightly more inclined…” Castiel scowled and let out a low growl. Dean huffed. “Yeah, okay fine. I’ll hear you out...but this ain’t me agreeing to _ shit. _You got that?”

Castiel considered Dean for a moment. “Yes, I think you’ve been quite clear on that subject.” He raised an eyebrow and slowly lowered his sword, his face almost daring Dean to try something. Dean just crossed his arms and looked at him defiantly. 

Castiel’s mouth quirked. “Hmm.” He stepped back to lean once again against the worktable as he had been when Dean first came to. “As I said before, my people believe that we may be able to help each other.”

“Yeah, yeah...aligned interests and shit. Go on.”

Castiel rolled his eyes and gave Dean an exasperated look. “Your tendency towards a particular set of targets has caught our attention. Quite frankly, you’ve been helpful to us...if somewhat of a wildcard.”

“Helpful, huh? How so?”

Castiel tilted his head, seemingly confused for some reason. “I’m with the French Nav-”

“Buddy, you said that. And? Look, I don’t care if you’re from the moon. I don’t see what it’s got to do with me.”

Castiel’s eyes narrowed. “We’ve...well, we obviously have no way of knowing everything you do; but nearly every ship we know of you attacking was either Portuguese or British...with very few outliers. For as active as you and your crew are, no French vessels that we know of have disappeared at your hands.”

Dean crossed his arms. “And that makes you think I’m on your side.”

“It makes us believe that, at the least, we have a common enemy.”

“Hmm. Well, I hate to disappoint you, but I have no special love or hate for any flag. The reason you mainly hear about us attacking the British and Portuguese is that they’re the biggest players in the slave trade. We don’t tend to attack French vessels because you’re not usually the ones kidnapping people.”

Castiel studied him for a moment. “You specifically attack slave ships.”

“Yeah.” Dean huffed a laugh. “Kinda confused at how you even found us without learning at least that much.”

Castiel nodded. “Some things..._ do _ make more sense now.” Dean wondered at what kind of things but didn’t ask. Castiel met his eyes again. “I still believe we could be of use to each other.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Oh yeah?” 

“You said it yourself, Dean: the biggest slave traders in this area are the British and Portuguese. Those are _ our _ greatest competitors. We may have different reasons...but we _ do _ in fact share a common enemy.”

“Get to the point. You trying to enlist me? I ain’t exactly the soldier type.”

“No...not soldiers.” Castiel rolled his eyes. “Only honorable men loyal to the Crown should be soldiers. You and your crew, of course, are abominations. You would never work out in the navy.”

“Wow, Cas, tell me how you really feel.”

Castiel pursed his lips. The nickname had been a slip; but if Castiel noticed, he didn’t comment. “What we _ want _ is to unofficially enlist you as privateers under King Francis. You would not be able to fly our flag, but you would have aid where we can give it. You would have safe harbor in French ports, access to better supplies. And _ we _ would have your promise to not attack ships that belong to us or our allies. On occasion, in exchange for compensation, we may assign specific targets for you, but you will mostly be left alone, reporting to me twice a year.”

“No.”

Castiel narrowed his eyes. “It’s a good deal, Dean. You would be receiving compensation and aid to do what you are already doing.”

“But we would be owned.”

“If you choose to see it that way.”

“No.” Dean thought about his crew, how many of them had come from slavery or other forms of oppression, how many of them had escaped lives where they lacked autonomy to be who they were or do as they pleased. 

As long as Dean had a say, they would never be owned again. 

“We’re free. And I ain’t lettin’ nobody, not you or no king or whoever...tell us where to roam, how to act, and NEVER who we should fucking kill.”

“Dean…”

“No, man. Look...you wanted me to hear you out, and I did. Thanks for helping me out last night. Really.” Dean gripped the sword at his side. “But now you’re gonna let me go.”

Castiel nodded. “Yes, that...was the agreement.”

“_Was? _” Dean eyed Castiel dangerously. 

“Is.” Castiel sighed. “Of course it’s still the agreement. You’re free to go.”

Dean crossed the room to the stuff that Castiel had dropped in front of the door and began dragging it out of the way. After a moment, he called over his shoulder, “Hey, you gonna help with all this shit you dropped, or just stand there and watch?”

There was no answer. Dean turned around to find the barn empty. “What the…?” There was a sliver of light streaming in through the back corner of the room, where a door had been left barely open. Dean shook his head. “You mean to tell me there was a back door this whole damn time?” he mumbled to himself. “Son of a bitch…”


	6. It Was NOT a "Hookup"

At a table in the pub below their rooms, Sam sat with his head in his hands while he waited for food. It was only a few hours after sun-up, but it had already been a frustrating morning. 

He had headed out early to try to meet another of their usual contacts...who was nowhere to be found. Adding to Sam’s frustration, Dean hadn’t made it up to the room last night, which wasn’t exactly uncommon...but seriously, the least he could have done would have been to let Sam know instead of just disappearing. They didn’t exactly lead the safest lives. It was kind of hard to tell when to start worrying.

“You all right there, Grumpy?”

Sam sighed and looked up at the barkeep. “Ah, yeah.” He smiled at her as she set a plate of breakfast in front of him. “Thanks, Pamela. Looks great.”

“Anything for you, sweetheart.” She winked at him. “You know, you missed all the excitement last night.” She chuckled and crossed her arms. “Speaking of, did your brother ever-” she was cut off by someone calling for her. She sighed. “Ugh, hold that thought. I’ll be right back.”

Sam stared after her. _ Did Dean ever _ what_? _ Actually, never mind. Sam was fairly certain that whatever excitement Dean and Pamela had gotten into, he was relieved to be left out of it; but before he could think about it too much, Dean stumbled through the door.

“Oohhh, there he is,” Sam called out to his brother as Dean spotted him and made his way over. “Found someone to spend the night with, I see.”

“Bite me.”

Sam smirked and took a sip of his coffee. “So, do you remember their name this time?”

Dean made a face and rolled his eyes. “Uh, Cas. It was Cas.” He rubbed at his shoulders like they were sore. “Hey, have you seen Charlie this morning?”

Sam nodded. “Yeah. She was already out when I got up, but I saw her and Benny out running around when I was up at the docks. Haven’t talked to her, but I assume she was finding the rest of the stuff for repairs.” 

Dean let out a heavy breath and smiled. He looked relieved. “Good. That’s...that’s good.”

“Hmm.” Sam took in his brother’s appearance. “Dude, you look…” Sam shook his head. “Ugh, never mind. Look, we might have a problem. I went out this morning to talk to the harbormaster, and it sounds like the usual cargo crews that help us smuggle people to Florida aren’t operating here anymore. In fact, apparently all of the supply routes back and forth between Florida and Nassau are now controlled by the East India Trading Company.”

Dean grumbled. “Well, that explains why we can’t find anyone.”

Sam sighed. “Yeah. I don’t know what we’re gonna do about everyone who wants to go to Florida if we have no way to get them there. And not just that...I went to the church. Even Pastor Jim’s gone, which means that we don’t even have somewhere safe to hide people while they wait. Apparently he hasn’t been seen for months, and I don’t know who else we can trust.” Sam ran his fingers through his hair. “Do we want to sail to Florida?”

Dean groaned. “Not really. The Spanish may not have a problem taking in runaway slaves; they’ll do it to spite the other colonies if nothin’ else...but that don’t exactly make ‘em friendly to _ us_.”

“I know, but the people we usually work with aren’t _ here_, Dean. I’ve been asking around. And sure, I haven’t talked to everyone, so I’m not saying that there’s no chance we’ll find another option; but if that ends up being the case…”

Sam watched Dean rub the back of his neck, thinking, then shake his head. “Look, I’ve- I’ve had a long night. I _ will _ figure this out with you... _ today, _ ” he added when Sam gave him a look. “And you know what? I don’t want to, but if we have to sail people to Florida ourselves, so be it. We’ll do what we have to do to make them safe.” He snatched a piece of bacon from Sam’s plate. “But right now? I’m going to go bathe and put on some clothes that don’t smell like...well... _ this.” _

Sam nodded and wrinkled his nose. “Uh, yeah. Please do. I’ll see you in a few.”

Sam finished the rest of his breakfast in silence, thinking about the morning, working through a mental checklist of other people they could possibly reach out to for help. 

A figure appeared and placed himself in the chair across from him, surprising him out of his reverie. “Uh,” Sam looked around them, noting that the man seemed to be alone. “I’m sorry, but can I help you?”

The man stared at him seriously. “Actually, I may be able to help _ you_, Sam.” 

Help him? Also, how...did this guy know his name? Sam eyed the man suspiciously, giving him a quick once-over. He wore a long dark blue jacket with white lapels and gold embellishments. French Navy. Ranked. And he knew who they were…

_ Dammit! _

Sam jumped from his chair, letting it fall back to the floor behind him, his gun quickly trained at the man’s head. “However you know me, it doesn’t matter. We aren’t here for trouble.”

Dean pulled a dark green shirt over his head, thinking about their situation. Pastor Jim not being around threw a pretty big wrench in the works, even if they were able to find transportation. Jim was the one who helped harbor people, talked to them about what to expect in Florida, helped them with the transition and comforted them through the process. Dean sighed. The last thing he wanted was to just dump a bunch of displaced people in a strange place where they didn’t understand the language and had nobody to help them get on their feet.

He grunted as he yanked on his boots. They _ could _ just take everyone to Port Royal...let the Ellen help them instead. But aside from the fact that not everyone in this group wanted to go there, The Roadhouse was already gonna be overloaded with the people they _ had _ planned to take. Between the _ Hannibal _ and the Dutch ship they’d met the week before, they now had upwards of five hundred people to find a safe place to live and start new lives. It was too many to take to one place. Aside from it being difficult to find homes and trades for all those people in one small town, they’d be way too conspicuous.

Dean took a deep breath and headed for the stairs. At least he was clean now, and caffeinated, having grabbed some coffee from Pamela on his way up the room. He was tired, but he felt a hundred times better and ready to get back to Sam, take on the day, and leave all thoughts of a blue-eyed captain and the events of the night, or morning, whatever...behind him. He hit the bottom of the stairs and rounded the corner into the pub, his eyes falling on the last person he actually needed to see_ . _

There sat Castiel, now in an actual uniform rather than the discreet clothing he’d been wearing the night before. The crash of a chair falling back brought Dean’s attention to the fact that Castiel was sitting across from Sam, who was now standing with a gun aimed at Castiel’s head. _ Dammit! _

He ran across the room. “Wait! Wait, Sammy.” He reached out and pushed down his brother’s hands to lower the gun. “This, uh...this is Cas.”

Sam gave him a bewildered look. “Cas...the _ hookup_?”

“Wha- _ NO. _ ” Dean corrected. His ears started burning and he could feel Castiel’s eyes on him. He glanced to see Castiel staring at him questioningly, brow all furrowed and head tilted. Dean shook his head and looked back at Sam. “Look, there was no _ hookup _. There was, um, a fight, and-”

“Dean!” Charlie’s voice rang out behind him, along with quick footsteps followed by a crushing hug...well, as crushing as a hug could be coming from someone a third Dean’s size. Charlie spun him around and punched his shoulder. “What _ happened _ to you? I’ve been looking for you all night!” Dean’s eyes wandered over Charlie’s shoulder to see Benny standing behind her, who nodded in agreement. 

“You disappeared on us, brother. Charlie went back to help, but you were-”

“You were fricking _ gone _. After I jumped out the window with Gilda, I heard a gunshot and just knew something had happened to you. So I made sure Gilda got away, then ran back inside, but not a soul would tell me what the flippin’ heck happened to you! They all acted like they had no effing idea who I was talking about, as if they weren’t all still in the process of picking up chairs and flipping tables back over from the all-out brawl that had just taken place! I ran upstairs to the room I thought you were in, and, well...let’s just say it was the wrong room.” Charlie’s face turned bright red for a moment before she shook her head like she was trying to rid it of the unwanted images. “Anyway, I found Benny, and we’ve been asking around all the inns and bars nearby and even went back to the docks, but no one had seen you, and…”

Dean pulled her into another hug. “Hey, calm down. It’s all right. Chuck, hey…” He rested his cheek on her head. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to worry you. And I’m glad you’re okay. Thanks for looking for me.”

Charlie nodded into his shoulder. “Where _ were _ you, you asshole?”

“He was with me.” Charlie jumped, and she and Benny turned at the sound of Castiel’s deep, gravelly voice behind them. They looked at him wide-eyed, and a little suspicious. Charlie turned back to Dean.

“You mean to tell me that I spend all night worrying over a _ hookup?!” _

“What? I...No!” Dean scrubbed a hand over his face. “Dammit, what is it with you guys and…”

Sam laughed. “It’s not exactly a bizarre assumption, Dean.”

“Shaddup. We were...dueling.”

Charlie eyed him suspiciously. “So that’s what the kids are calling it these days huh?” 

Dean smacked the back of her head lightly. “_You’re _one to talk.” He glanced at Castiel, whose confused face seemed to be developing a hint of a smirk.

Castiel finally rolled his eyes and spoke up. “We did not ‘hook up’,” he said, with air quotes around the words. “I saw that things were going badly and fired a shot to stop the fight, then carried Dean to the barn next door because, as destiny would have it, I needed to speak with him, alone.”

“I’m sure you did,” Benny muttered.

Dean scrubbed a hand over his face, ignoring the still-suspicious expressions of the other three. “Why are you still here, Castiel? We already had our talk.”

“I noticed Sam talking to the harbormaster this morning on the way to my ship. He seemed distressed. I was curious. Then, I overheard some of your conversation earlier. I think I could be of help, if you’re willing to let me.”

“No.”

“Dean-” Castiel sounded exasperated, but not as much as Dean felt.

“No! I said we don’t need your kind of help. We’ll find another way. Come on, guys. Let’s get out of here.” Dean stormed out of the pub, Charlie, Sam, and Benny in tow.


	7. Collateral

Charlie slumped onto the wooden planks of the docks next to Sam and Dean, watching Benny and the others of the kitchen crew load the last of the food supplies. She sighed. At least _ he’d _ been able to find what he needed. 

She looked out over the harbor. It was evening, and they had spent the entire day hitting dead ends. Their options truly seemed to be either sail to Florida themselves, risking the safety of everyone involved, or take everyone to Port Royal and leave the refugees in a place unequipped to handle such a sudden influx of people. Charlie didn’t like either of those options any more than the boys did.

She leaned back against her hands, swinging her legs off the end of the pier. “I hate to bring this up, but...what about Castiel?” She cut her eyes to Dean, who sat cross-legged between her and Sam. “I mean, he seems helpful and dreamy,” she added with a grin. 

Dean groaned and dropped his head to his chest. “_No._”

“Why not?”

Dean looked at her incredulously. “Uh, did you miss the uniform, Chuck? He’s navy.” Dean waved a hand over himself. “Pirate?” He gestured to her and Sam. “Also pirates? Maybe you hadn’t noticed, but us and military don’t exactly get along.”

“Fair enough.” Charlie sat up and pulled a knee to her chest, resting her chin on it. “What’d he want with you, anyway?”

Dean pursed his lips as he looked out over the water. “He wanted us to be privateers for the French.”

Charlie’s eyes went wide; she turned to face him and saw Sam also leaning forward with a surprised look. She blinked and shook her head. “Yeah, I don’t think that’d work out.”

“That’s what I told him.”

Sam finally spoke up. “It’s...an interesting offer, though.”

Dean’s head snapped to his brother. “_ Really, _ Sam? Really...”

“What? Look, I’m not saying we should have done it. Of _ course _ I’m not. It’s just not what I was expecting, and sometimes...having a side would be nice.”

Dean didn’t answer immediately. Charlie watched as he turned back to gaze at where the _ Impala _ was docked. She thought about those on the ship, about all the people they had helped escape slavery over the years. She thought about her own past and how she would still be spending her days if it weren’t for Dean, Sam, and the rest of their strange, wonderful family...She didn’t notice the tears running down her face until she felt Dean’s hand on hers. He didn’t look at her, just squeezed her hand gently between them as he tore his eyes from the ship to look back at his brother. 

“We _ have _ a side, Sam. It’s the side of everyone who’s been told they’re a little less human than others. And we’re _ against _ anyone who would treat them that way, the French included.” 

“We may not be as bad as you think, Dean.” 

Dean jumped up and spun to face Castiel, who had appeared behind them. “Dammit, Cas! Get out of my ass!”

Castiel tilted his head. “I was never in your…” He let the statement trail off and just stared at Dean in confusion. 

Charlie fought to suppress a bout of laughter. Dean had assured them repeatedly that their _ duel _ was _ not _fancy terminology for a hookup, but she still had her suspicions. 

Dean ran a hand over his face. “What are you doing here, Castiel?” He looked up mockingly. “What? You just can’t stand to give up ‘til you get a piece of this?” He gestured vaguely over himself, and Charlie lost it. Dean shoved at her playfully as she and Sam stood up, but he should know better than to say stuff like that if he didn’t want her to make fun of him later for it...which she absolutely planned to.

Castiel quirked an eyebrow at him. “You think I came back for _ you? _ ” He rolled his eyes and huffed. “I came back for _ this _.” He shoved a piece of paper at Dean’s chest and waited as Dean took it hesitantly. “A notice has been issued for the finding and return of some three hundred twenty-eight escaped slaves. Know anything about it?”

Dean passed the notice to Sam and crossed his arms, staring at Castiel defiantly. “Not a damn thing.”

“Hmm.” Castiel narrowed his eyes and stepped closer. “Apparently, a few Brittish sailors were found adrift on some flotsam not far from here with tales of a ship with black sails that attacked them in the night, taking all of the slaves they were transporting before sinking the ship.”

Dean’s face twitched. His hand rested casually on his sword, ready. “Get to your point, Captain.” 

Charlie reached for her own piece, ready to stand with him. The docks were crowded; if this went south, they would have a heck of a fight back to the ship.

Castiel pursed his lips. “I just thought you should know that...if there _ were _ , say, a pirate crew with a bunch of rescued slaves in the area...they wouldn’t be safe here for much longer.” He leveled Dean with a serious look. “People are looking for them, Dean. For _ you. _”

Dean leaned forward and glared at him dangerously. His voice was low. “You thinking about collecting a reward?”

Castiel stepped in further. “I was thinking about helping you, actually.”

Confusion twisted Dean’s face. He turned to see the same confusion on Charlie and Sam’s faces.

As Dean turned his attention back to Castiel, Sam was the one to ask, “Why?”

Castiel kept staring at Dean. “I would prefer all of you avoid capture.”

“Okay...why?” Sam pressed.

Castiel sighed and turned to Sam. “Would it be too surprising if I said that I myself am not overly fond of those people’s plight? Their path will be especially difficult now that they have been marked as runaways.”

Dean scoffed. “_Difficult? _ Most of them would probably be beaten to death or hanged. At _ best, _ they’ll convince people that we held them against their will and they’ll go back to a lifetime of servitude. Maybe their ‘masters’ will be _ nice_.”

Castiel turned back to Dean with an exasperated look. “That is exactly my point.”

“Oh, so, you’re trying to tell me you care?”

Castiel narrowed his eyes. “Yes.”

“Bullshit.”

Castiel growled and fisted Dean’s shirt. “You know nothing about me. I am not in that business, Dean.”

Dean shoved him away. “Yeah, well, you ain’t exactly better. Sure, maybe you don’t go around picking up poor bastards and selling them yourself...but you protect the people who do. And, though you may be calling it something different, you _ do _ think you have the right to own people.” He held up a hand to stop Castiel’s protest. “You think you can own _ me. _ You’re trying to hire us to attack random trade ships, not because they’re doing something evil, but because they’re _ competition.” _ Dean paused to let what he was saying sink in. “No...you don’t _ care _. I don’t think you have the right equipment to care.” 

Castiel clenched his teeth and stared dangerously back at him. “_ Regardless _ of what you think of me...you have found yourself in a dire situation. No one here will assist you, and the people you’ve rescued will not be safe. I can help.”

“I don’t trust you.”

“But you _ need _ me.”

Dean raised his chin as though to argue, but nothing came out. Charlie spoke up next to him. “How do we know you weren’t the one who told people we were here in the first place, trying to drive us to working with you?”

Castiel looked at her, his piercing blue eyes softening only slightly. “You don’t...but I didn’t.”

Dean caught Castiel’s attention. “Hey, I don’t know what sort of game you’re playing, but I ain’t signing us up to-”

“I _ know _, Dean. You have been exceedingly clear on that point. I hope that we can talk about it again someday; but for now, I simply want to help people who need it.” 

Dean dropped his chin to his chest and took a deep breath. “Fine. How is it that you think you can help?”

“If you were able to get the refugees to New Orleans, they’d be free.”

Dean stared at him incredulously. “There are slaves in Louisiana too.”

Castiel nodded. “But there are also developing communities there that _ need _ settlers rather than being already overwhelmed with them. No one will have heard of them there. They won’t know who these people are.”

“If you think for one second that my crew and I are going to sail with you into the heart of your-”

“Fine.” Castiel frustratedly waved him off. “Then let me take them.”

Dean felt his jaw drop. “Oh _ hell _ no. We did not just blast them out of a slave ship only to hand them over the authorities, _ any _ authority. I-”

“No harm will come to them. I swear to you, whatever you may think, this is not a ruse. I have no intention of turning them over to slavers or anyone else. I would take them to _ refuge, _ Dean.”

“No.” 

“I can offer them safe passage aboard my vessel. Nobody else here will help you, and you _ know _ that.”

Dean grabbed Castiel by the lapels and pulled his face close. “I. Don’t. _ Trust. _You.”

“Fine!” Castiel threw his hands in the air and rolled his eyes in exasperation. “Then take me with you as collateral!”

Dean gawked at him, releasing his grip on Castiel’s jacket. “What?” he whispered.

“I will talk to my first mate. He and my crew can take the refugees to New Orleans while I sail with you to Port Royal. That was my original destination anyway. My ship will meet us there after everyone has been safely delivered. If something goes wrong, if it turns out that this was a ruse, then you will have the opportunity to do with me as you please.”

Dean couldn’t believe what he was hearing. This _ had _to be a joke. Why would a naval captain go through such great lengths to help them? What was his endgame? Dean looked to Sam and Charlie, who seemed as perplexed as he was. Dean took a step back from Castiel, trying to think of a better option.

Sam’s voice broke him from his daze. “I’ll go with your crew.” 

Dean’s head snapped to Sam. Had he lost his mind? “No. No way...they could do anything to you.”

Sam huffed and faced him. “Dean, it’s...not a bad plan. You keep Castiel as collateral while I go with the other ship. Otherwise, they could do anything with those people, and we would have no way of knowing. This way, unless they want you to kill Castiel, they need to bring me back safely, and I will be a witness to whether or not they’re telling the truth.”

Dean’s head was reeling. It made sense, but he didn’t like it. He didn’t. He couldn’t. His voice came out as a whisper. “I’m not letting you do this.”

Dean watched the determination flicker in his not-so-little brother’s eyes. “Dean, you don’t have a choice.”


	8. Unconventional

_ Well, come aboard and voyage long, we make for unmapped shores. _

_ Ride the stormy seas with us, you'll find that soul of yourn. _

_ Leave your wealth behind you, and your bitter scorn. _

_ Make your home with slaves and sinners—then you'll be reborn. _

_ ~ The Pirate Shanty (Worldwide Adventurers) _

Sam sighed as he watched Dean storm off down the ship corridor. 

Through Bobby and Rufus, he and Dean had explained the situation to the refugees and had asked for a vote on the situation, figuring that their fate should be their own decision. The refugees were wary, but about half of them chose to go to New Orleans, with the other half choosing Port Royal. A few people had taken off in the night at Nassau. Sam was worried. Dean had wanted to go look for them, but Sam convinced him that if those people wanted to try to make it here in Nassau, they were...well..._free _ to do so. He wished them the best. 

The crew had taken some convincing. Sam and Dean put another vote to them about Castiel. Welcoming a military captain aboard their ship was a huge risk that affected everyone. Castiel would no doubt learn their names, some of their habits, weaknesses, allies...but in the end, the vote was that this was the best available option, no matter how uncomfortable it may be. They even conceded that Sam’s plan to travel with Castiel’s crew to New Orleans made sense.

And_ that _ was what had Dean so angry.

Sam stared down the hall to where Dean had disappeared into their bunk room. He wasn’t really in the mood face Dean yet, but he needed to pack his things and get ready to board the other ship. 

He shook his head. “I guess I better go try to calm him down,” he mumbled to himself as he started down the hallway. 

A gruff voice called out from behind him. “Hey, Sam, can we have a minute?” Sam turned to see Bobby coming down the stairs with Rufus in tow.

“Uh, sure, Bobby. What’s up?”

Rufus was the one who answered. “You ain’t goin’ to New Orleans.”

Sam clenched his fists and turned to face them fully. “Rufus, we’ve already-”

Bobby waved a hand. “What he’s trying to say is that we’re going instead. You’re plan’s good. You’re just not the right one to go.”

_ Oh for the love of…_“Bobby, you don’t have to worry about me. You two going doesn’t make any more sense than-”

“It _ does._ But don’t get your panties in a wad about it, ‘cause it’s not that we don’t trust you or think you can’t handle yourself or what have you. I happen to know you _can_. And maybe under different circumstances, you’d be right. But you’re the sailing master on this vessel, and Dean’s gonna need you to navigate; and the refugees, on the other hand, will need us to translate.”

“And what about the ones who are staying on the _ Impala_?” Sam challenged.

Rufus grunted. “The ones staying here will at least have the advantage of being around people who’ve been through the same kind of stuff that they’ve been through. And there _ are _ plenty of crew who would be able to talk with them to _ some _ degree anyway. They’ll be with the crew that saved them, people we know and that they’re beginning to understand that they can trust. The people going on the Navy ship won’t have that.”

Sam’s mouth tightened in a line. “Rufus, I can-”

“Your Fula and French suck and you know it.”

Bobby put a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “You’re learning, but you ain’t there yet, son. Look, you had the right idea, just the wrong swap. This is a better fit.”

Sam was just about to argue when he saw Dean coming back down the hall. “Dean...did you put them up to this?”

Dean’s response was cut off by Rufus’s impatient groan. “Damn it, kid! Why won’t you...look, overbearing and protective are practically core features of your brother’s personality,” he held up a finger to silence Dean’s protests, “but this has fuck all to do with him, and no, he didn’t freakin’ _ put us up _ to this. Now, can we all agree that this is the best decision?”

Sam stared at him for a moment before conceding. “Fine...yeah, you have a point.”

Dean waved a hand, “Uh, yeah, can someone please fill me in on whatever this is that I didn’t put y’all up to?”

Bobby turned to him. “Rufus and I are going on _The_ _King’s Grace_ instead of Sam. And before you say anything, think about it. You know it makes sense.”

Dean pursed his lips and looked down, seemingly taking a moment to mull the situation over. He grunted and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I still don’t like it.”

Bobby spoke up. “Kid, I don’t like _ any _ of this: us goin’ with them, _ or _ that captain fancy-pants sailin’ with you boys...but it’s the best we got.”

Castiel stood in the quarterdeck, watching an array of emotions play over the face of his first mate, waiting for the inevitable response. 

“Cassie, you’re crazy.”

“Balthazar…”

“No, no, you do what you think you have to. I’ll sail these refugees to New Orleans while you go play hostage with a bunch of pirates. I just want it on record that _ I,” _ he flourished a hand over himself before booping Castiel on the nose, “think you’re nuts.” He crossed his arms. “And don’t think that I’ll be coming after when they decide to make you an _ actual _ hostage. If our beloved admiral asks, I’ll be telling him that you disappeared in the night with some green-eyed beauty, and I never saw you again.”

Castiel rolled his eyes. They both knew how bizarre _ that _ would sound. Although, as Castiel’s mind wandered back to the barn and the way Dean’s eyes had flashed when he told Castiel that he and his crew would not be owned, it struck him that Balthazar’s story of him running away with some striking green eyes wasn’t _ terribly _ far from the truth...while not exactly the right sentiment. 

He looked back up at Balthazar. “Thank you, my friend. I realize the risk in what I’m asking of you, and also that this situation isn’t...conventional.”

“This isn’t even on the same bloody _ continent _ as conventional. I love you, Cassie, but you've completely taken leave of your senses on this one.” Balthazar’s face softened a bit. “But I do have to say, I don’t think that I dislike these pirates...if they are what you seem to think they are. They’re fools, right idiots the lot of them...but interesting ones.”

Castiel had to laugh at that as they looked out across to the other ship. “Well, it seems I’m going to find out.”

After a long pause, Balthazar laid a hand on his shoulder. “You come back safely, you bastard. I’m not made out to be captain.”

Castiel scowled at him. “Bastard? Really?”

Balthazar chuckled. “You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

On the deck of the _ Impala _, Bobby hovered uncomfortably in front of Dean after they’d said their goodbyes. Dean waited, trying to be patient as Bobby rambled about random things instead of getting to what he really wanted to say. 

After a while, Dean sighed. “Look, God knows I ain’t tryin’ to run you off. You can back out of this insane deal any time you want. You know that. But if you’re goin’, you kinda need to go. They’re waiting for you over there.” 

“Shaddup, ya idjit, I ain’t backing out. That’s not the problem, here.”

“Then what is it, Bobby?”

Bobby looked at his shoes. “I ain’t gonna get to be with you boys in Port Royal.”

“Okay?”

Bobby looked at him exasperatedly. 

Realization finally hit him. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Just…” Bobby scratched his beard. “Tell Ellen I said hi, okay?”

Dean crossed his arms. “You can tell her yourself when you meet up with us there.”

“Yeah I know but—”

Dean smirked. “Want me to give her a kiss for ya too?”

“Oh, shaddup…” Bobby turned, too flustered to add more, and walked down the dock towards Castiel’s vessel.

Dean watched the last of the refugees, along with Bobby and Rufus, board the navy ship…_ The King’s Grace_, it said on the side. 

Charlie walked up beside him. “We’re ready, Dean.”

Dean looked across at Castiel, who was stepping onto the pier and walking towards the _ Impala _, escorted by Sam and Benny. Dean dropped his head to his chest and tried to shake off the worry. “All right. As soon as they step aboard, and the other ship disembarks, weigh anchor. Let’s get to Port Royal.”

Charlie clapped him on the back and rushed off. He could hear her calling out orders as Sam, Benny, and Castiel stepped onto the deck. Dean leaned against the railing and pinched the bridge of his nose.

_ What did I get us into… _


	9. Trust Has to be Earned

The following days were...awkward. The crew of the  _ Impala _ did not trust Castiel. Neither did he trust them. They kept their distance, worried he would learn things about them and their allies that he could later use against them. For his part, Castiel existed in a state of worry that he would be killed in his sleep. It was an uncomfortable truce, to say the least; and while Castiel understood their mistrust...he couldn’t wait to be off this accursed vessel. 

He hung his head, wondering what had possessed him to do this. His orders had been to deliver a message to the Winchesters and their crew, an invitation for them to enlist as privateers. The message had been delivered, the invitation rejected. His next move should have been to apprehend them, or simply to leave if he determined that they posed no threat...not to  _ sail with _ them.

The truth was, Castiel was far beyond the scope of his original mission and purpose, dangerously so. He should have left when Dean told him no. But then he saw the notice and had just...acted. There was a group of people who were likely about to be slaughtered, and he had wanted to do what he could to save them.

He tried to tell himself that maybe he was just being thorough, that he was hopeful Dean and the others would come around if given a bit more time. Perhaps through this journey, Castiel could convince them that his offer was the way that they could do the most good. He looked back over the deck from where he leaned against the forward bow and saw Dean standing at the aft. 

Castiel sighed. He was just being thorough. Yes, that was it.

Dean stood next to Sam and Benny as Sam steered them out of the harbor. He leaned against the railing, looking across the deck at their royal passenger, then thumped his hands against the wood and huffed. “This was a bad idea.”

Benny hummed beside him. “It was a risky idea, brother. We shall see whether or not it proves to be a  _ bad _ one.”

Sam sighed at the wheel. “I mean, I don’t really like it either, Dean; but it’s the best immediate solution that presented itself. So unless we wanted to wait around to be caught…”

Dean shook his head. “No. No, you’re right. It was the best choice we had. Doesn’t mean I have to like it, though.”

“If it helps…” Benny spoke up, “I’m not entirely unfamiliar with the French Navy.”

“Yeah, I know.” Dean looked up at his friend. “Your story is a part of why I even agreed to this crazy plan, the fact that your mother and her people found a home in New Orleans.”

Benny nodded. “Well, it’s not just that.” He hesitated for a moment. “You see, my brothers actually sail under King Francis.” 

Dean glanced at Sam, who seemed to share his surprise. “Huh.” He tried to push down the suspicions boiling up over why Benny had never mentioned this before. “They know about us?”

“They know the basics of what we do, but no specifics about our operation and no information about our allies.”

“Navy?”

“Ha! No.” Benny shook his head. “Privateers.”

Dean eyed his friend. “Benny, are your brothers how Castiel found out about us?”

Benny met his eyes. “No. I doubt that very much. To tell you the truth, it’s something we have talked about before. I actually tried to join them back before I met you, and they wouldn’t let me. No. They wouldn’t have told them about us.”

_ Ah. _ “So, you think I should have taken the offer...”

“No. The arrangement suits them. It serves their purposes, but it wouldn’t suit us. We wouldn’t have the same freedom. I only bring it up to say that while my brothers don’t seem to think much of King Francis, one of them  _ has _ mentioned a dark-haired, somewhat dry caption that he works with who, to quote my brother, ‘ain’t much fun but a good man who holds to his word.’” Benny nodded across the deck towards Castiel. “I can’t help but wonder if that’s our boy over there.” 

Dean chewed at his cheek as he pondered this.  _ Hmm... _

He pushed himself upright and clapped Benny on the back as he made his way down the steps, across the main deck and towards Castiel. He clenched his fists at the sight of Castiel watching him, leaned back against the railing and waiting for Dean as though it was exactly what he’d wanted. Dean couldn’t stand the way Castiel somehow managed to look all comfortable and commanding as though  _ he _ weren’t the intruder on this ship. He was wearing his officer’s uniform, which only added to the vibe. 

Dean thought about the trip ahead. If the wind was with them, it would take just over a week to get to Port Royal; but they would still have to keep Castiel with them until the other stip returned from New Orleans, which would take about two and a half weeks, not including whatever time it would take to get people settled there. 

Dean sighed _ . _ This was going to be a long couple of weeks.

Stepping up to Castiel, Dean found himself with nothing to actually say. He had walked over here because he didn’t like the guy being on his ship...unattended. Castiel didn’t seem bothered by the silence, simply raising an eyebrow at Dean. And so they just stood there, staring at each other, waiting for the other to say something. Castiel crossed his arms but did not break the silence. And so they kept staring.

Finally, Dean just huffed and stepped around Castiel to lean against the rails, looking out at the water. He blew out a breath. “Bobby and Rufus better meet us in Port Royal one hundred percent intact and with good things to report...all I’m sayin’.”

Castiel uncrossed his arms and leaned his head back, speaking up at the sky. “I assure you that no harm will come to them, Dean.”

Dean pursed his lips. “I don’t like your first mate.”

Castiel ruffled slightly and scowled down at him. “Balthazar is sometimes...difficult to control. But he is a kind man, and I trust him in this. You can be sure no evil will befall them under his watch.”

“Difficult to control? Dude, it took us all day to find the guy because he had left his station; and when we  _ did _ find him, he was in the middle of what could only be described as  _ ménage à _ ...what’s French for ‘twelve’?”

Castiel rolled his eyes. “ _ Douze. _ And I have to say, Dean,” Castiel quirked an eyebrow at him, “that’s very judgemental coming from someone whose brother and friends immediately assumed that our rendezvous had been a ‘hookup.’” 

Dean opened and closed his mouth a few times, searching for a response. He finally settled on clamping his jaw shut and staring out at the water. 

Castiel chuckled. “Dean...Balthazar will see that those people are cared for and found a home. You don’t have to worry about that.”

Dean looked over at Castiel. He was finding it hard to distrust the conviction in the man’s voice and eyes. “Yeah, okay.” He nodded. “Good. Good. Well, I-” Dean paused to listen to a series of whistles coming from the hatch leading down into the ship. He watched with humor as Castiel’s face became more and more confused. 

“What...was that about? I’ve heard someone do that a couple of times.” Castiel asked with the slight tilt of his head. 

“Ah. That was Benny. Supper’s ready.”

“I don’t—” 

“Don’t worry about it. Follow me. Let’s go find you an empty bunk before we go eat.”

“Bunk?”

“I mean, you can’t exactly sleep out here.”

Castiel followed Dean down to a level beneath the gundeck with a long corridor. Dean pushed open one of the doors on the left and gestured for Castiel to enter. 

The room contained six bunks, one set on the right with a wardrobe of sorts on the wall at the foot of them, and two sets of bunks on the left built end to end. There was a small dresser with six drawers on the far wall between the left and right bunks. 

Dean gestured to the nearest set of bunks on the left. “You can take Bobby or Rufus’s bunk, seeing as they won’t be here to use them until you leave anyway. One sleeps top and the other bottom, so you got your pick.” He began pointing around at the rest of the beds. “The sets on the right are Benny and Jack’s. The ones against the left wall at the back there are mine and Sam’s.”

Castiel looked around the room. “You- you sleep here?”

Dean crossed his arms. “Something wrong with that?”

Castiel shook his head. “No. I just...don’t you have officers’ quarters?”

“Nuh-uh. We all sleep the same. Six to a room. Double up if we need to when there’s an unexpected, uh, influx of passengers.”

Castiel stood stunned. He had already noticed at lunch earlier that the crew all dined together when the officers would have typically had their own area. That was uncommon...but not unheard of. However, he had  _ never _ been aboard a ship where the officers did not have their own quarters, and the captain his own suite. This crew wasn’t huge. Surely there was room for such. Castiel didn’t know what to make of it.

Dean noticed his confusion. “There used to be officers’ quarters. We rebuilt and rearranged some stuff after I, uh,  _ inherited _ the  _ Impala _ . One of the changes was to sleeping arrangements so that we’d be able to accommodate more rescuees.”

Castiel stared at Dean. This...pirate...was so utterly different than what he was used to. It bothered Castiel that he thought he might like some of the differences. He shook it off and pointed at one of the bunks. “I, uh, think I’ll take bottom.”

Dean smirked at him. “Hmm, I would have figured you for a top kinda guy.” 

Castiel stared at him, confused. “I...suppose I can. I don’t really see how it matters, and I am fine with either…” Castiel trailed off, watching with growing confusion as Dean seemed to be having a hard time controlling his expression. Castiel didn’t think he had said anything funny. He tilted his head. “I can be on top if it’s a problem.”

Dean lost it. Castiel just stared in confusion as Dean doubled over laughing and mumbling something like “I”m sure you can.” Dean finally stood and waved a hand at Castiel’s confused expression, wiping his eyes.

“Oh man. Nope. No problem at all. Bottom it is. It actually doesn’t matter that much to me either,” Dean added with a wink, “but some people seem to have a strong preference.” He chuckled and shook his head. “Anyway, let’s go eat. Benny and Donna are the best cooks a ship ever had.”

The next day, Castiel stood on the deck watching Charlie adjust the sails for the wind and other members of the crew hurry about tending to their various duties. He could not help but watch the way the  _ Impala’ _ s crew interacted with each other. 

Everyone worked together, ate together, even roomed together apparently. And Dean and Sam...well, there seemed to not be so much of a hierarchy aboard the  _ Impala  _ as simply different roles. Every member of the crew had their place, their set of responsibilities that they looked after. Some people did lead the various groups...such as Charlie with the other boatswains or Benny and Donna with the kitchen staff; but it seemed to be more because someone had to organize things rather than a ‘position of authority.’ 

And yet they all worked together seamlessly. Castiel got the feeling that many of this crew had been together for years, and the culture of equality that they had developed over time allowed the new among them to feel at home, including the freed slaves, many of whom seemed to already be finding a place here aboard this ship...unlike Castiel.

There was one person in particular who seemed to find him particularly abhorrent, a young girl with blonde, wavy hair. She spent most of her time in the crow’s nest of the mainmast, so he didn’t see her often, but the first time he had passed her in the corridor, she had completely paled and stood frozen, just staring at him. Castiel had tried to apologize for startling her. She, in turn, had recovered from her shock and shoved him against the wall. 

“I don’t know what your game here is, Castiel,” she had said, “but you should know that I’m watching you.”

Castiel had sighed. “I assure you, there is no game.”

“Yeah, sure,  _ Captain… _ ”

And then she had walked off, leaving Castiel to wonder what  _ that  _ had been about. Probably just a similar sentiment to his first conversations with Dean. After all, pirates were bound to be uncomfortable sailing with a navy captain. 

Castiel was brought out of his thoughts by a sudden outburst from Charlie.

“Shit!” 

He looked up to see that a gust of wind had nearly pulled a rope that she had been tying off from her hands. She had caught it, but the force of the wind was pulling her away from where she needed to be. She looked around and saw him standing nearby. “Hey, Castiel! mind giving me a hand?”

Castiel started her way, but before he could reach her, Dean stepped in and helped her pull it back down and tie it. Castiel was left hovering awkwardly, unsure of what to do. 

Charlie sighed and ran the back of her hand over her brow. “Ah. Thanks, Dean.”

Dean smiled down at her. “No problem, Chuck.” He glanced over at Castiel. “That one probably doesn’t know how to do anything but prance around in a fancy coat anyway. Doubt he’s ever done a day of actual work in his life.”

Castiel clenched his jaw. Dean was wrong...but it would do no good to tell him that. So, he just turned and walked away.

A few days in, Castiel sat at the end of a table on the mess deck, finishing up his dinner. Most of the crew gave him plenty of space. A few, such as Dean, followed him some...but Castiel got the feeling that it was more to keep an eye on him than anything. For now, he ate alone. It didn’t really bother him, though.

He took another bite of his food. Dean had been right. Benny and Donna  _ were _ good cooks. They were somewhat confined to what they could find and would keep well at sea, but they definitely made the best of the available ingredients. 

Castiel looked up as a large figure, Sam, sat across from him. Since their initial meeting at Perdition, Castiel had not had any direct interactions with the younger Winchester. He looked at him curiously for a moment. Sam just sat there, his mouth pressing into a thin line like he wasn’t quite sure how to say what he wanted to. Castiel sighed tiredly, setting down his fork, and gave the young man what he hoped was a reassuring smile.“What can I do for you, Sam?” 

Finally, Sam spoke. “Dean will kill you and everyone involved if anything happens to those refugees.” Sam eyed him cautiously, his eyebrows pulled together in a serious line. “You should know that.”

Castiel studied him with narrowed eyes. “Yes, I get that feeling about him.”

“I’ll help him.”

“I would expect no less from you.”

Sam took a deep breath and nodded. “But until then...you should know that you’re safe here. We may be suspicious of you, but there’s no one here who would hurt you without reason. We’re not— we’re not that kind of crew.”

Castiel softened his gaze. “Yes. I...I get that feeling about you as well.”

Sam huffed a small laugh and dropped his head for a moment before meeting Castiel’s eyes again. “Well, with that in mind...you should try to rest a little. I noticed you haven’t really been sleeping. And I get it. I do. But you- you don’t have to worry about us. Ha, well, not for now anyway...”

Castiel returned Sam’s apologetic half-smile with a nod and a small smile of his own. “Thank you, Sam. I’ll try to keep that in mind. It’s good to have assurance that you don’t plan to murder me in my sleep.”

Sam let out an awkward laugh. “Dude, are you always so matter-of-fact?” 

Castiel’s eyebrows drew together. Had he said something strange? 

Sam shook his head. “Never mind. I just- I just thought that it needed to be said...That you’re safe with us, I mean. I’ll, uh, go and let you finish your dinner. See you around, Castiel.”

“Thank you, Sam.” As Sam walked away, Castiel slumped tiredly over his plate. This was going to be a long couple of weeks. Though, despite his better reasoning, he did feel a little better now.

Castiel lay in his bunk that night, looking down past his feet to Dean’s bunk that connected to his. He considered this man and his strange crew. They were not what he had expected. He liked it. He also didn’t like it. It made something inside him uncomfortable...and maybe a little lonely.


	10. The Lightening Strike

_ What if this storm ends? _

_ And I don't see you _

_ As you are now _

_ Ever again _

_ Just for a minute _

_ The silver forked sky _

_ Lit you up like a star _

_ That I will follow _

_ ~ The Lightning Strike (Snow Patrol) _

Dean woke in the night to the sound of cannons. He stumbled out of his bunk to find Sam pulling on his boots and running for the door, then looked to his right to see Castiel rolling from his bunk and fumbling for his shirt; he looked up at Dean questioningly as another round sounded.  _ Shit… _

They were under attack.

Dean ran for the door, grabbing nothing but his pistol and cutlass on the way out, clothes be damned. He sprinted barefoot down the hall, banging on doors as he went, yelling for people to get to the gundeck and man the cannons. He stumbled and fell against the wall of the corridor as the ship lurched to the port side.  _ Good. _ Sam was at the helm and getting them into position to respond. Dean grit his teeth and climbed the steps to the top deck as another round blasted the hull. He spotted Claire with a young girl who had come from the  _ Hannibal  _ at the forward, readying the front cannons and ran to them. 

“Claire!”

She looked up. “Dean!” They all ducked as another volley came their way. “Shit, Dean! I’m so sorry! It was my watch and I fell asleep. I-”

He cut her off. “Not now! I need you to get to the mortars! No one has better aim with them than you, and this needs to be perfect. I’ll get someone else to take over here.” He grabbed her shoulder as she stood to leave. “Hey, you good?” 

Claire nodded and handed him the fuses. “Yeah.” She grabbed the other girl’s hand and pulled her along behind as they ran to the middle of the ship.

Benny came running up beside Dean with five others and began prepping the cannon next to him. “We got this, brother. Go check on the gundeck!”

Dean nodded and ran to the hatch to the deck beneath them, ignoring the steps and dropping straight down. He sighed in relief as he landed and looked around. 

Even without Rufus and Bobby there, Jody, Donna, Garth, and the other gunners were all with their teams and already firing back at the enemy. They seemed to be short a few powder monkeys, but Jack was running back and forth among the teams and doing his best to take up the slack. Dean joined him. “I gotcha, kid. Let’s do this.”

Castiel found Dean on the gundeck. Dean was not issuing orders. He was not calling the fire, or even manning the cannons. He was doing what was often considered to be the most menial job on a fighting vessel: running powder and ammunition. Castiel shook himself out of his surprise and looked around. They did seem to be short a few people: there seemed to be only one young man besides Dean doing the job. 

Castiel grabbed the young man’s arm as he ran for the door to fetch more ammunition. He looked up at Castiel questioningly.

Castiel yelled so that the young man could hear him over the cannon fire. “It’s Jack, right?” The young man nodded. “I’ll go with you to help you carry! Please, lead the way!”

Jack nodded and darted for the door with Castiel following close behind. Castiel wondered as they ran through the corridor who was attacking them. Surely it was some other pirate crew...to attack unprovoked this way. It must be someone trying to weed out the competition, or perhaps they were slavers who recognized the  _ Impala  _ and knew of its reputation. Castiel shook his head. How did he get tied up in this?

He and Jack made it back to the gundeck with their powder loads and set them in the middle of the floor to be dispersed among the teams. Castiel stood up with a portion for the first team and came face-to-face with one Dean Winchester. 

Dean stared at him with brows pulled low and lips pursed until another cannon volley brought them back to the present crisis, and they resumed their respective tasks. They ran back and forth keeping the teams stocked, helping otherwise as needed. Castiel stumbled occasionally as the ship maneuvered to keep them at a good angle. 

A volley from the enemy blasted through the rear of the gundeck to Castiel’s left; he raised an arm to cover his face from the blast. When he lowered it to see the damage, he noted with relief that the gunners seemed mostly unscathed. Then he noticed Jack lying on the floor, covered in debris. 

Castiel ran to him. “Jack! Hey…” Jack blurrily opened his eyes and tried to sit up, but cried out in pain and collapsed back down. Castiel looked him over. Nothing seemed broken...at least as from what he was able to tell at a quick glance, though he was fairly cut up from the blast and flying splinters. One such piece of splintered wood was protruding from Jack’s side. Castiel pulled him to the side and out of the way as Dean came running up and slid to the floor beside them.

“Hey, kid..shit!” Dean reached for the piece of wood but Castiel grabbed his hand.

“Don’t. If you pull it out before we have time to stitch him up, he’ll lose too much blood. It’s far enough to the side that he likely doesn’t have serious internal damage, but if something  _ is _ punctured, you’ll only aggravate it by pulling the shard out before we’re ready to deal with it.”

Dean stared at Castiel, his eyes conflicted...but he eventually nodded. “Okay...okay.” He turned to Jack. “Kid, you hang in there until we’re done with this. Then, we’re gonna get you patched up right. Got it?”

“Yeah, Dean. Don’t worry about me. I’m okay.”

Dean went back to helping the gunners while Castiel did what he could to get Jack relatively comfortable and somewhere safe until the end of the fight. A young man came running up. Castiel couldn’t understand what he said, but he seemed to be relaying that he’d stay with Jack. Castiel was unsure of what to do until he felt a heavy hand on his shoulder and looked up to see Dean’s green eyes staring down at him.

“Come fight with me, Cas?”

Castiel blinked and tilted his head up at the pirate. He should say no. “I…” He opened and closed his mouth a few times before finally answering, “Of course, Dean.”

Dean squeezed his shoulder and nodded. “Then let’s go end this.”


	11. With My Bones

_ Brought a knife to hell and saw _

_ What was left down there and more _

_ Hide-and-seek'd for far too long _

_ Kept my treasures with my bones _

_ ~ Oceans Brawl (Cœur de Pirate) _

Castiel followed behind Dean to the top deck, arriving to find Benny, Claire, and the others already throwing grappling hooks to reel the enemy ship close enough to board. 

Dean grabbed the rope of one that had been thrown up around an opposing mast and gave it a couple yanks. He glanced around. “You guys take out the scouts?”

Benny nodded.

“Good.” Dean turned and offered a second rope to Castiel, which he took. Maybe something in the back of Castiel’s mind should have told him not to do this, but it didn’t. He watched as Dean leapt from the railing and swung to the enemy ship. 

Maybe Castiel shouldn’t have followed, but he did. 

He felt his boots hit hard against the deck and was instantly met with opposition. He cut down the first man and glanced beside him at Dean, who was already fighting as well. As they cut their way through the sailors, maybe it should have occurred to Castiel that this was his first time engaging in battle without orders, but it didn't. Later...it would occur to him that he had killed by choice, that he had followed a pirate into battle, and that he had fought by his side, not because he had to...but because he wanted to, and because there were people he wanted to protect, even if he was not quite yet welcome among them.

But for now, Castiel was simply immersed in the battle. He felt it rage both around him and through his own sword as he cut down one man after another. He blocked an incoming sword and threw its owner overboard into the black waves below. He watched the _ Impala _’s crew as they landed on the deck and ran past him into the fray. They were vicious. They gave no quarter. That was good, Castiel thought. None could be afforded here. He met his next opponent.

The barrage began to lessen as the battle wore on, their side slowly gaining the advantage. Castiel spared a moment to look across the deck for Dean. He found him, barefoot, shirtless, covered in gore, and fighting with a sort of calm fury that Castiel had never seen.

Castiel had fought Dean when they met. He knew that Dean was a formidable opponent...but this was was not the Dean he had fought in the barn. That Dean had been snarky, playful, annoyed. Sure, that Dean had fought Castiel, but he had had no reason to actually _ hate _ him. He had simply playing Castiel’s game so that he could leave. But this Dean…

This Dean was rage. He was fury unleashed. He was fire. He was protector...these people had attacked his family, and they were learning the cost of their transgression.

Soon, the top deck was clear. Castiel looked to see Dean standing in the moonlight, breathing heavily, surveying the carnage. Blood dripped down his face and ran over his chest. The white breeches he had been sleeping in were stained nearly solid red with it. Castiel stared as Dean leaned his head back to the stars, finally taking a moment to breathe. Castiel marveled at the sight. This captain, who was so kind to those most would consider beneath them, who was so gentle with his crew...this captain could be absolutely terrifying when the time came for it. Castiel thought that he was beginning to understand why the others followed him. Dean looked back down across the deck until he met Castiel’s eyes. Yes, Castiel could see why someone would follow this man.

Dean waved him over. “We’re going below. Be ready. A ship this size...this wasn’t everyone.” As Dean turned to walk away, in the moonlight, Castiel could see white streaks jutting across Dean’s back. There were too many to count. He hadn’t noticed them before, in the heat of battle, but as Castiel’s eyes raked over the latticework of scars, a realization hit him. 

“Those aren’t from battle…” he whispered.

Dean paused. “No.” He looked back over his shoulder. “No, they’re not.”

That was all the explanation that Castiel received before Dean opened the hatch and dropped below deck.

Dean was right. It _ wasn’t _everyone...but those left went down without much fight. 

About ten of Dean’s crew stayed stationed at the hatch to the top deck to catch anyone who tried to escape. The rest of them stayed together, slaughtering as they went. They cleared the gundeck first. When they first reached it, Dean and Benny raised their pistols and blew the powder kegs, leaving the cannons useless and the deck blasted to pieces and burning. 

Dean lowered his gun and eyed the men scrambling to recover themselves. “Now stop blowing fucking holes in my ship.”

Those uninjured from the blasts charged. They didn’t last long.

Dean’s crew cleared each deck one by one, and Castiel marveled at Dean and Sam as he followed behind them. With their impressive statures, fierce expressions, decisive movements, the gore that covered them head to toe...they looked like something born of nightmares, avenging angels with their warrior companions sweeping through the ship. All fell before them. 

But nothing prepared Castiel for what he saw when they reached the cargo hold…

The first thing that hit him as they pulled open doors was the _ smell._ It smelled like refuse, like sickness, like death. What could this ship possibly be transporting? He lowered himself down into the hold behind the brothers, squinting as he looked around. 

This...this couldn’t be right. It was dark, but as Castiel’s eyes adjusted to the light, he could tell that this- this wasn’t cargo.

It was _ people, _ hundreds of them...all crammed into this small space and each chained to their place in the floor, unable to move more than a few feet in any direction. Castiel felt sick. He knew, of _ course _ he knew that this existed, that people were taken and sold for labor. He had known slavers and their operations...but it had always been at some amount of distance. And he had never seen _ this _ side of it before. Dean’s hard voice spoke up beside him.

“What...you didn’t know who you were working for?”

“Dean, I…” Castiel blinked and looked at him. “What do you mean?”

Dean’s eyes narrowed. “There are slaves in Louisiana too, Cas.”

Castiel shook his head. “Not- not like this. They’re cared for, taken into homes. We have regulations about transport that require them to be given three meals a day and allowed exercise and sanitary conditions. We don’t do it like this. We aren’t like _ this, _ Dean.”

Dean stared at him incredulously for a moment before huffing and shaking his head. “Yeah, okay. Guess you didn’t catch all the chatter as we fought our way down here.”

Castiel tilted his head, confused. Their conversation was interrupted by Sam putting a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “Dean...we can talk about this later. Right now, let’s take care of these people.”

Dean stared at Castiel for a moment longer before nodding. “Yeah.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Yeah, let’s get them out of here.”

The sun was peeking over the horizon. Back aboard the _ Impala_, in the gray morning light, Castiel could now make out the name on the side of the enemy ship that they were still tethered to: the _ Duc du Maine_. Castiel stared at the letters in horror…

It was a French vessel.


	12. Not a Hammer

_ Oh, and no one ever really knows you and life is brief _

_ So I've heard, but what's that got to do with this black hole in me? _

_ ~ Holy Shit (Father John Misty) _

Castiel collapsed onto the floor by his bunk, exhausted from a long day following a night of little sleep. He leaned his head back against the wooden frame, wanting nothing more than to crawl into bed and sleep until the cows dragged him home, but he still carried the gore of battle on him. 

Sure, they’d washed their faces and cleaned up just enough to not completely terrify the people they were trying to help; but there had yet to be a chance to actually bathe and change into fresh clothing. Castiel grimaced. Speaking of...he hadn’t actually brought a single change of clothes with him.

Before he could bemoan the situation too much, the door opened and Dean came stumbling in. His shirt was..._ relatively _ clean, as he hadn’t been wearing one during the fight, but his white breeches were now almost completely dark with blood, and his hair full of gunk that Castiel didn’t want to think about. 

Dean huffed a greeting and crumpled on the floor next to him, following Castiel’s lead of leaning against the bed rather than getting into it. “Dude,” he said as he scrubbed a hand over his face and leaned back, “I could sleep for a week.”

Castiel hummed in agreement and turned his head to look at him. “You get everyone settled?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah. How’re Jack and everyone else up in the sick bay?”

Castiel sighed tiredly. “Some are injured more seriously than others, but I don’t think we will lose anyone, which is amazing, all things considered. As for Jack, he’ll be fine as long as he keeps the wound clean to avoid infection. He’ll be sore for a while, though.”

Dean nodded and leaned his head back against the bunk. They sat quietly for a while, too exhausted to move but not wanting to go to bed without washing. It was an almost peaceful reprieve from the day until Dean’s quiet voice broke the silence.

“Did you figure out who you’re working for, Cas?” he whispered into the room. 

Castiel clenched his fists. “The Crown.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

Castiel drew in a shaky breath. “I know.” He closed his eyes. “I...I would be lying if I said that I was not troubled today.”

“‘Troubled.’” Dean hummed and stared at the bunks across from them. “You know, as someone who spent his entire day stitching up my crew with me and frantically taking care of all the sick and injured people that we brought off that ship...well, you strike me as someone who’d be more than ‘troubled’ by what he saw.”

Castiel leaned forward and rested his head on his arms crossed over his knees. “I can’t..._ afford _ to be more than that, Dean.”

“Bullshit. We all have a choice.”

Castiel tensed. No. It had been a long time since he had felt the luxury of choice.

Dean continued quietly. “You know, if I had taken your deal and come to work for you, I wouldn’t have been allowed to help those people today. The ship wouldn’t have attacked us, and those people would still be bound for the colonies to be sold, the ones that didn’t die on the way there, anyway. ‘Cause that happens, you know. You saw the conditions - how they keep them down there - so many end up sick or worse because of it. You really think that we should just ignore all that ’cause we can’t _ afford _ to do more?”

Castiel grit his teeth. “I know that the people I defend are not perfect, but we do have standards. We cannot control everyone; but we try, and we are working to bring order and regulations to the trade and all of the cruelty surrounding it.”

“Order to ‘the trade’? Cas, those are_ people!_”

“I cannot change the world, Dean! I don’t like it. I don’t. But I have found that there is no point in fighting the way things are.” Castiel worked to keep his voice even. People couldn’t change their fate; he had learned that lesson the hard way. He swallowed and continued quietly. “Some people are just born to certain things.”

“‘The way things are’? ‘Born to certain things’? Cas...Cas, that’s a load of crap. It’s just lies that those in power feed the rest of us to keep us from questioning things, from fighting back, from realizing that the only power they actually have is what we give them. None of it’s real! You know what _ is_, though? People. Families. _ Those _ are real....and they’re being torn apart out there. They’re being abused. They’re being captured and bought and sold like fucking commodities instead of living, breathing human beings! And what? You’re just gonna sit back and watch? People ain’t possessions, Cas! And I know you know that. I watched how you were with them today. I _ know _you see that…”

“I have orders, Dean. Expectations.” 

“And what? Is that all you know how to do? Just take orders and pass them around? Have you never even had a god damn thought of your own? You poor, stupid son of a bitch...you talk like you’re just a tool, just a damn hammer in someone else’s hands instead of a living, thinking person!”

Castiel turned to fully face Dean. “I think that my presence aboard this vessel…” his tone was dangerous, “would prove otherwise. I gave up my ship to ferry your refugees, an act that could have me marked as a traitor if discovered. And then to convince you to even accept my aid, against _ any _ sound judgment, I offered myself as a hostage to you so that you could trust that nothing would happen to them. I _ fought _ with you today, Dean...against my _ own _ people. I…” he shut his eyes and turned back to lean against the bunk, taking a few breaths to calm himself. “I am not a- a ‘hammer’ as you say. You presume much about me and my history, my reasons for the things I do, when you hardly know me. I have thoughts, doubts. Sometimes I wonder if my path is justified, but…” Castiel trailed off. He felt lost. He felt like everything he believed was shattering before him, and he didn’t know what to do about it.

They sat in renewed silence for a while before Dean again broke it. 

“Hey, Cas?” When Dean didn’t continue, Castiel slowly turned his head to look at him. Dean’s face was sober...sad, but calmer than before. “Thank you.” Dean sighed. “Really…’cause you’re right. You- you didn’t have to do what you did today. I wouldn’t have even thought to ask it of you. And I didn’t, but you just jumped in there on the gundeck, helping Jack. You even boarded the other ship with us. It wasn’t your fight, but you helped us. And then you spent whole the day sewing people up and tending to the injured and sick with me an’ Sam.” Dean worked a hand over his mouth before resting his arm on his knee. Castiel studied the side of his face. Dean still wore a small scowl...but his expression was a little softer, a little more understanding. “Just...you really helped us out today.”

Castiel wasn’t sure what to say. The things he’d done...it was far more than he should have done. It also wasn’t enough. “I...of course, Dean.”

Dean looked back at him and nodded, giving Castiel a small smile. Castiel wished that that smile, that small appreciation and understanding, didn’t mean as much as they did. After a moment, Dean cleared his throat and looked away.

“Hey, uh, so how’d you know so much about first aid and stuff anyway?”

Castiel raised an eyebrow at him. “I could ask the same of you.”

Dean chuckled. “Fair enough. I guess...you do this long enough, you just get used to stitching people up, you know?”

Castiel nodded. “I do. I am a soldier and have also seen my share of battles.”

Dean pursed his lips, obviously not buying the explanation. “Sure. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I can sew a damn fine suture...but not like _ that_. Yours were perfect.” He waited a moment for a response; Castiel gave him none. Dean nodded and looked back at the wall across from them. “Keep your secrets if you like. We all have our own business that ain’t anybody else’s. I can respect that. I was just curious is all.”

Castiel gave him a small smile and let the topic hang for a while. It wasn’t so much that it was a secret. It was just… “I wasn’t always a soldier. My mother taught me medicine. I studied to be a doctor, I _ wanted _ to be, but destiny chose another path for me.” 

Dean huffed. “Destiny again, huh? Kinda sounds like a bitch.” 

Castiel had to laugh at that; it caught him off guard. He looked at Dean. Castiel had long ago resigned himself to the life prescribed for him, but this pirate sparked something in him that made him wish he could be so free, just call destiny a bitch and live his own life. He did his best to stomp that spark out and put back on what he hoped was a convincing smile.

Dean didn’t look convinced, but he huffed and then returned the smile warmly, if somewhat tentatively. He seemed to be searching Castiel’s face for something; he must not have found it, because he finally asked, “Really though, why’d you quit medicine? Military life just look too good?”

“Ha, no. It was chosen for me.” Castiel looked up at the ceiling as he thought back. “I tried to at least enlist as a ship surgeon...but because of who my father is, I was set on a different path.”

“Daddy some kind of military big shot?”

Castiel smirked. It was kind of refreshing to be with people who didn’t know. “Something like that.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Not particularly.”

“Fair enough.” Castiel watched Dean chew his lip for a moment before adding, “You know...you don’t belong to your old man. I know a thing or two about shitty dads myself. Mine...well, let’s just say he had a slightly different plan for me and Sam.”

Castiel studied the man next to him. “You escaped that plan?”

Dean met his eyes. “We escaped more than that.”

Castiel thought back to the _ Duc du Maine_, remembering the scars on Dean’s back. “Would you...like to talk about it?”

Dean smirked. “Not particularly.”

Castiel chuckled. “We all do have our secrets,” Castiel replied, echoing Dean’s words. 

Dean smiled at him, then dropped his chin to his chest and sighed. “Well, another time maybe.” He glanced back up at Castiel. “Look, we’re both exhausted,” Dean scrunched his face, “and disgusting. I’m gonna clean up and make one more check through the sick bay. Then, I intend to actually sleep until the sun rises this time. You should get some rest too.” 

Dean grunted as he stood up. He started to leave, but something seemed to occur to him. He looked back at Castiel, studying his appearance for a moment. “You don’t have a change of clothes, do you?” 

Castiel shook his head. Dean nodded and began rummaging through one of the dresser drawers. “I have an extra set.” He glanced back at Castiel. “Eh, may not be an exact fit, but I bet they’re pretty close. Here.” He chunked a set of clothes onto Castiel’s bunk. “Wash up and put those on, huh?”

Castiel turned to look at the white shirt and tan pair of breeches on the bed behind him. “I...thank you, Dean.”

Dean just grunted and turned to leave. He paused in the doorway, facing the hall as he drummed his fingers nervously against the frame. “Hey, Cas? Thanks again...for all of it.”


	13. Not for Nothing

_ I have never been a beautiful boy _

_ Never liked the sound of my own voice _

_ I wasn't cool when I was in my teens _

_ I never slept but I did have dreams _

_ As I step out in this big old world _

_ Seven billion just trying to cope and _

_ Everyone of us someday will die _

_ But today I never felt more alive _

_ Can you feel it coming? _

_ ~ Bones (James Blunt) _

Castiel woke early, dressed in the clothes Dean had given him, and headed to the sick bay. He liked these clothes. They were comfortable and reminded him of the clothes he had worn growing up in the country with his mother. But that was before, well..._ before_. 

Castiel walked aftward through the gundeck and stepped down into what would have typically been some sort of officers’ quarters but had been rebuilt into a sick bay. 

Jack smiled up at him as he walked in, sitting up in his bed. “Good morning.”

“Jack.” Castiel smiled and nodded to him as he sat on the edge of the bed. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine.”

“Uh-huh…” Castiel heard the voice of the strange girl behind him, Claire, he had learned her name was. “He says that now, but he was up in sweats all night.”

Castiel turned to Jack, his eyebrows knitting in concern. “May I?” he asked, gesturing to the wound in Jack’s side.

“Sure.” 

“Thank you. Please, lie back.” Castiel waited as Jack slowly got himself situated before undressing the wound to inspect it. It was a little infected, probably nothing to worry about yet, but it would be if not treated. Castiel looked around the room at the others who had been wounded. They were probably in similar states. He turned to Claire. “What do you generally use for infections and cleaning wounds?”

Claire looked at him incredulously and shrugged. “I dunno, man.” She pointed towards a woman who was checking on someone on the other side of the room. “Ask Jody. She’s the closest thing we got to a doctor.”

The lady Claire had called Jody looked over her shoulder and rolled her eyes. “Hardly. I’m just the only one around here crazy enough to deal with this bunch of whiners when they ain’t feeling good.”

“Hey!” A hand reached up from the bed and smacked Jody playfully on the arm. “That’s awful cheeky comin’ from someone I’ve been taking care of the last three weeks over a bum leg.”

Jody turned back to the blonde who was now working to sit up in the bed. “Hmm. You know, Donna, I don’t recall complaining about my shot leg so much as you hovering like a worried mother hen and yelling ‘I’ll get it’ every time I tried to do something for myself.”

The scowl Donna gave Jody made Castiel laugh. He smiled at them. “You two argue like sisters. Are you related?” 

Their reaction confused Castiel. Donna turned bright red and looked to Jody. Jody just studied him, seemingly deciding on whether or not to answer. Claire was the one to respond as she cracked up next to him. “Dude, they’re not sisters. They’re bunkmates.”

“Claire!” Jody reprimanded.

“What? It may be illegal on a navy ship, but what’s he gonna do here?” She looked down at Castiel, challenging. “So, there gonna be a problem?”

Castiel tilted his head in confusion. “I don’t see why there would be a problem…or why it would be my business who roomed together.”

Claire gave him a withering look. “You’re dense, aren’t you, old man? They’re _ together _.”

Understanding dawned on Castiel. He looked back at Jody and Donna, who were both watching him carefully, waiting for his response. Castiel addressed Claire’s question, but his words were for them. “I still don’t see why there would be a problem.”

Jody gave him a small smile. Castiel saw her squeeze Donna’s hand on the bed. “So, Castiel, you had something to ask me, right?”

“Ah, yes. What do you use for preventing infection?”

Jody shrugged. “Just keep the wounds clean as we can mostly. You know, lye soap and water.”

Castiel nodded. “Do you have any honey or garlic aboard the ship?”

It was Donna who answered. “Honey is pretty scarce, but we do make sure to get garlic when we can. There’s some in the kitchen. What do ya need it for?”

“It helps with infection. I like to mash the garlic into a paste with the honey and apply it as an ointment, but it will help even without the honey.”

“Oooh. Now, where were you three weeks ago when Jody was moaning about her leg, huh?”

“Hey, now…” Jody’s voice was stern, but she was smiling as Donna pulled her in and pecked her on the cheek. 

Once Donna had told him where to find the garlic, Castiel headed toward the kitchen with a promise that he’d be right back with something to eat as well as the garlic. On his way through the mess hall, he noticed Dean and a few others sitting with a group of people, seemingly in some sort of meeting. He was curious, but decided it wasn’t his business and continued on his way. 

Dean, Sam, and Benny sat at a table on the mess deck across from a group of people who had come from the _ Duc du Maine_. 

It had been a rather interesting group aboard the ship. Normally, they found mostly prisoners taken from Africa on a ship like this; but this group also contained a large number of people from the Canary Islands, which was just off the coast of Africa, but Spanish territory. Luckily, Benny was able to translate as they discussed future plans, his mother having come from the island of La Gomera herself. Dean smiled, thinking of the way he had seen some of their eyes light up in recognition the first time they heard Benny make a call in the whistled language they used there. 

Dean leaned his elbows on the table. A few of the Africans spoke broken French, “thanks” to all of the damn colonization, so Benny was able to help there as well, being from New Orleans; but with Bobby and Rufus being gone, Sam was the best translator they had left for Fula or other common West African languages. And dammit, he was trying...they were _ all _ trying...but the progress was painfully slow, and Dean was doing his best not to be impatient. He stifled a groan and rubbed a hand over his face.

Sam turned to him. “Dude, we’re doing our best. I don’t see you jumping in here.”

Dean shook his head and gave him a tired smile. “I know, Sammy. It’s not that. It’s just that my baby’s a mess, and they’re out there doing repairs without me, and you know how I feel about that.”

“You don’t _ have _ to be here, Dean.”

“I _ want _to be here. I just also want to...be...” Dean trailed off as he spotted Castiel walking across the mess deck. He had forgotten about the change of clothes that he had given him last night. The clothes gave him an altogether different air than when he had been in his naval uniform. Dean swallowed as his eyes followed Cas into the kitchen. In Dean’s clothes, he looked a little more comfortable...and a little less like he didn’t belong. 

_ Ah. _

He shook off the thought and looked back at Sam to see his brother staring at him with a raised eyebrow. The lady sitting across from him was also wearing quite the smirk. 

Sam cleared his throat, and they went back to the conversation...and Dean didn’t notice at all when Cas made his way back through, carrying some herbs, a bag of bread, and a jug of water. _ Must be taking stuff to the sick bay_. 

The discussion took a while with so many languages going...Benny and Sam speaking in Spanish, French and broken Fula, then some of the crew members translating what they understood of that into various other languages...but, eventually, they understood each other.

Turned out, the _ Duc de Maine _ had actually received minimal damage to the hull, enough that it wouldn’t stand up to another fight, but not so much that it wasn’t seaworthy. It had taken less damage than the _ Impala_, actually, a thought which made Dean’s chest hurt...but it _ did _ present them with an opportunity, one that the previous residents of the cargo hold were eager to take.

The freed prisoners wanted to keep the _ Duc du Maine _ rather than coming on the _ Impala_, which was fine. They were free. In fact, some of the people that had joined Dean’s crew from the _ Hannibal _ were actually wanting to go with them to help as people who now had some experience sailing a ship of this kind. That was all fine. However, it _ did _ mean that they couldn’t scavenge the _ Duc du Maine _ for supplies and materials and that both ships would be somewhat limping into Port Royal as a result...and this was a heavily trafficked route. 

Dean scrubbed a hand over his face. It’d be fine. They’d sail together to Port Royal for repairs and watch out for each other. He looked across the table at the lady who had introduced herself as Missouri.

“So, what will you do? After, I mean. Where will you go after Port Royal?” Benny translated Dean’s question into French for Missouri’s granddaughter, who sat next to her. The granddaughter translated into some language Dean didn’t recognize, but Sam seemed to know some of. Missouri raised an eyebrow at Dean and said something that made Sam laugh. 

Dean looked at him. “What? I say something funny?”

Sam chuckled and looked at Dean. “She says, ‘I thought you said we were free.’”

Dean laughed and smiled across the table at her. She had spunk. Good. She would need it going forward. He held his hands up in surrender. “Fair enough.” He slapped his hands down on the table and stood. “Well, if we’re done here, I’m gonna go see to my baby.” 

Dean climbed the steps to the main deck and looked around with a sigh. They had a lot of work to do. He rolled up his sleeves. 

After a morning of cleaning and re-dressing wounds, Castiel was tired as he stepped out onto the main deck, though not in a bad mood. He sighed and sat on the steps of the quarterdeck, surveying the crew as they worked at repairing the _ Impala_.

He watched Dean as the latter supervised the ship repairs. Well…’supervised’ may not have been the right word for what Dean was doing. 

Dean was organizing the efforts, sure, but he also worked with the crew, taking on himself as much as possible. Castiel chuckled after some time had passed. He didn’t think that he had ever heard one man say “I got it” so many times in one operation before. Occasionally, Dean would glance over at Castiel before looking away with a curious face. After a while, Dean looked at Castiel with a smirk as he was passing by to carry some rigging to the mizzenmast.

“Cas, not for nothing, but the last person who looked at me like that…” Dean tilted his head and grinned, “I got laid.”

Castiel scowled, not entirely sure how to react. Dean just looked over his shoulder and winked as he dropped the ropes at the base of the mast. Deciding that he didn’t have a good response, Castiel moved on with what had been on his mind before Dean’s comment.

“You know, Dean, I realize that many things are different on a pirate ship, but I believe it is still customary among most crews for the ship to employ a carpenter who oversees ship modifications and repairs...and I feel certain that person is not usually the captain.”

Dean’s face contorted in surprise and then horror. His right eye seemed to develop a sudden twitch. “You think I should...I can’t...you are out of your _ mind _ if you think I’m gonna just…” He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck and huffed. “Look man, don’t get me wrong. I got the best crew that’s ever sailed, and they know what they’re doin’, so it’s not that I don’t trust them; but the _ Impala _’s my baby. I ain’t just leavin’ her to someone else to handle.” He sighed and ran his hands along the ship’s dark wooden beams, petting it, almost. “It’s okay, baby. He didn’t mean anything by it. I ain’t lettin’ no other carpenter come between us.”

Castiel couldn’t help but laugh. Dean did seem to genuinely enjoy the work. Castiel could see his green eyes shine with pride when he looked at his ship. Castiel shook his head and rolled up the sleeves of the white shirt he was wearing. “Well, what can I do to help?” 

Dean just gaped at him a moment, somehow seeming surprised by the offer. Castiel chuckled. “What? I wasn’t always a captain...and I think you’ll find that I’m quite capable of more than ‘prancing around in a fancy coat.’”

Dean’s brain stuck for a moment as he watched Cas roll up his sleeves to reveal tanned, muscular forearms. 

Cas looked at him with serious eyes and a slight smirk playing across his lips, “...and I think you’ll find that I’m quite capable of more than ‘prancing around in a fancy coat.’”

Dean swallowed. “Yeah, I’m starting to get that.” He clapped his hands together. “Well, uh, they seem to have things pretty under control up here. Let’s go below and see what we can do with the gundeck, huh?” 

Castiel nodded. “I’ll follow you, Dean.”

Dean stared for a moment. It was just a simple statement. Castiel had just meant for Dean to lead the way to where they’d be working, but...that’s just what Cas had been doing the last few days wasn’t it? Following him? And Cas’s eyes...his voice...the sincerity in them surprised Dean, freezing him to the spot and chaining him to Cas’s gaze. He let out a shuddery breath and shook his head. “Okay. Yeah, well...let’s go then.”

The gundeck was a mess, but Garth and the other gunners who weren’t injured were already working to clear the floor of broken wood and debris, saving the longer pieces of boards into a separate pile to be trimmed and reused. None of this was a new process to them. Many of the gunners had been sailing on the _ Impala _ for years. Their line of work saw lots of battle...and therefore lots of repairs.

Luckily, the cannons remained undamaged, and the munitions storage had not been hit...so the damage was minimal compared to what it could have been. It still made Dean sick to see his baby in this shape. A deep voice spoke up right behind him. 

“Where would you like to start, Dean?”

Dean jumped and spun around to face Castiel. He wasn’t expecting him to be that close. _ Why would anyone just stand that close? _ They were literally inches apart. Dean swallowed as his eyes raked across Cas’s way-too-close face.

“Dude…” he put his hands on Castiel’s shoulders and slowly pushed him out to arms’ length, “personal space, man.” 

Cas tilted his head and drew his eyebrows together in a confused look that had no right to be that adorable. 

Dean sighed. “Look, buddy, maybe it’s different where you’re from, but most people around here don’t stand close enough for me to feel their breath on my neck when they talk.”

Castiel’s eyebrows went up in understanding. “I apologize,” he said as he took a step back. “I did not mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“It’s all right. Just...ah, never mind.” He handed Castiel one end of some twine. “Help me measure so we can start cutting replacement boards, will ya?”

Dean collapsed onto a bench in the mess hall and leaned against the table. It wasn’t long before he was joined by Sam and Garth.

Sam passed him a glass. “So, how are the repairs going?”

Dean groaned. “Slow...but not bad. And probably not actually as slow as it feels either, if I’m being honest. I just don’t like any time spent dead in the water this close to the patrol and trade routes.” He took a drink from the cup Sam had offered him and grimaced. “Sam...this is water.”

Sam chuckled and made a face at him. “Yes, Dean, it is. You've been working in the sun all day, and you need it.” 

Dean stared down at the glass as though it offended him. It _ did _. Sam wasn’t wrong, but water wasn’t what belonged in a pint glass. An idea struck him. “Hey, Garth…”

Garth straightened and gave him a mock salute. “Aye, Captain. What be on yer mind?”

Dean laughed. “Yeah, don’t do that. But hey...you were part of the team that did inventory on the _ Duc du Maine_, right?”

“Yeah?”

“Was there ale?”

Garth grinned, realizing where this was going. “Some...not much.” He leaned in with a wink. “Plenty of rum, though.”

Dean couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face despite his tiredness. “Even better.” 

Sam cleared his throat. “Dean, regardless of the alcohol stores, you really should-”

“Oh, can it, Sammy. I’m gonna drink the damn water.” Dean grinned at his brother and winked. “I’m just thinking that it’s been a long couple o’ days, and the crew’s due for a morale boost.”


	14. Free to Dance

_ So come on fly away with me _

_ To a place where we can be anyone we wanna be _

_ And we can bottle up our fears _

_ Grow a taste so sweet, knock us off our feet and more _

_ ~ Fly Away With Me (Tom Walker) _

  
  


Castiel stood to the side of the mess deck where they had pushed the tables against the wall to make room for people who wanted to dance. Garth, Jody, and few others whose names Castiel had not yet learned were playing instruments and singing from on top of the one long table that they had left in the middle of the room.

Castiel looked over the room full of people dancing, drinking, and having fun together. Here on this ship, they were just...people. There were no officers vs. cabin boys or rich vs. poor or royalty vs. commoners or Europeans vs. colonists or blacks vs. whites or English vs. French...just _ people _. Castiel’s chest ached at the beauty and simplicity of it as he watched them together. He watched them as they danced, as they laughed together, as they sang and tried to teach the words to those who didn’t know or even really understand them. He watched as they jumped on benches and tables and spun and stomped their feet and threw their arms around each other and raised their glasses and communicated in ways where words were not necessary.

Suddenly, Castiel found himself being pulled into the fray. Charlie had him by the arm and was dragging him to the middle of the room with more force than he would have expected from her small body.

She laughed at him. “Oh, come on, Castiel. You’re not just gonna stand there and watch all night, are you? Loosen up!”

“I-” Castiel tried to stammer out a response but found himself shoved directly at Donna, who seemed to be getting around much better this evening despite her injuries. She matched his wide-eyed look for a moment but quickly got over her surprise with a laugh, hooked her arm into his, and began skipping around a very confused Castiel. Directly, her arm slipped out of his, and he was grabbed on the other side by Benny, who started turning him the other way. Castiel was just getting over his shock enough to try to participate when he was traded off again to Sam and then back to Charlie. 

This continued for some time before finally...blessedly...the song changed. Castiel used the interruption to swiftly make his escape to the side of the room. He collapsed onto one of the benches and shut his eyes only to hear a hearty laugh above him. 

His head shot up to see Dean standing over him with two pints of ale, all but bent over laughing. Dean plopped onto the bench next to Castiel and held out one of the glasses. 

“Oh man.” Dean shook his head as he fought to calm himself. “Not much of a dancer, huh?”

Castiel bristled as he accepted the pint. “Not when I’m surprised with it. I was...caught off guard.”

Dean threw his head back in a full laugh. Castiel didn’t see what was so funny. Dean wiped his eyes and grinned at him. “Oh, okay. So, you’re all grace and shit if it’s not a surprise, then?”

“Dancing was,” Castiel grimaced, “part of my ‘education,’ but I never particularly enjoyed it; and it was...somewhat different from this.”

“HEY DEEEAAAAAAAANN!” They looked up to see Charlie waving him over. “You know what _ I _ know?!”

Dean laughed and waved her off. “Oooh no. You’re not getting me tonight, Chuck.”

Charlie narrowed her eyes and banged a fist on the table. Then did it again...and again, and again, slowly working her way up to a steady beat, the rest of the room gradually joining in.

Castiel watched as Benny raised a glass and called out, “You might as well get out here, brother! You know that one won’t be thwarted!” 

Sam, who was standing next to Charlie, just gave Dean a sympathetic look and shrugged. By this point, the entire room was either stomping or slamming their fists on the tables, keeping time with Charlie, looking to Dean expectantly.

Dean shook his head and downed the rest of his glass before slamming it on the table. “Fine, fine! I can see when I’ve lost!” He patted Castiel on the leg and stood, jumping up onto the long table running down the center of the room, working his way towards the middle, steps keeping time with the beat. “But someone better hand me a goddamn bottle of rum!”

Soon Dean was standing in the middle of the table next to the band, rum in one hand, jumping and dancing around, and singing out about how a bottle of rum wouldn’t do him any harm with the room echoing the lines behind him and joining him for the chorus. Finishing the verse, he pointed his bottle and lifted his chin to Benny. “Get your ass up here, you damn enabler!” 

Benny laughed and made his way to where Dean stood in the center of the table with a fake scowl and crossed arms. Benny jumped up and pushed Dean backwards off the table. Castiel laughed at a somewhat drunken Dean struggling to land on his feet. Benny started the next verse.

_ Oh, a drop of Nelson’s blood wouldn't do us any harm! _

** _A drop of Nelson's blood wouldn't do us any harm_ **

_ A drop of Nelson's blood wouldn't do us any harm _

** _And we'll all hang on behind._ **

** _So we'll roll the old chariot along_ **

** _we'll roll the golden chariot along._ **

** _So we'll roll the old chariot along_ **

** _And we'll all hang on behind!_ **

Dean stumbled back laughing to where Castiel sat as Charlie took Benny’s place.

_ Oh, a night with the girls wouldn't do us any harm! _

** _A night with the girls wouldn't do us any harm_ **

_ A night with the girls wouldn't do us any harm _

** _And we'll all hang on behind._ **

** _And we'll all hang on behind._ **

** _So we'll roll the old chariot along_ **

** _We'll roll the golden chariot along._ **

** _We'll roll the old chariot along_ **

** _An’ we'll all hang on behind!_ **

Castiel listened with interest as Charlie animatedly sang about how a night with a girl wouldn’t do her any harm. His thoughts wandered to Jody and Donna and how everyone was just so..._ free _ here. Dean’s laughter brought him out of his thoughts. He turned his gaze to Dean to find the man giving him an amused look. 

Castiel tilted his head. “You find something...humorous.”

“Haha, yeah. That expression you got, man. I’m guessing you’re not used to people being so open about liking what they like?” Dean nodded towards Charlie. 

Castiel thought for a moment. “No,” he answered as he turned back to watch her. “No, not really.”

Dean hummed next to him. “Figured. Yeah, you’ll find we’re a little more accepting around here than most.”

Castiel sat, considering his words. “Hmm, that...makes sense, actually. Homosexuality is taboo in most places,” he turned back to Dean, “but I have the feeling that society considering something to be ‘taboo’ wouldn’t mean much here.”

Dean chuckled and took a swig of his beer. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

“I’m curious. Is homosexuality...more common among pirates? Or just more accepted?”

Dean shrugged. “I dunno, man. I figure it’s about as common as anywhere...we’re just more likely to admit it.” Castiel watched Dean’s face as he thought. “Though I guess it’s possible that some people may feel pulled to places like this that would be more welcoming.”

Castiel nodded. He could understand that: wanting to exist in a place and among people where you could be free to be yourself without judgment. Until this week, he would have argued that such a place did not exist. Dean’s voice brought him out of his thoughts. 

“Is all this a, um, problem for you?”

Castiel looked at Dean, who seemed to be bracing himself for something. Judgment, perhaps? Castiel was sure Dean had probably heard plenty of it before; he hated that. He shook his head. “No. I am utterly indifferent to sexuality.”

Dean smiled at him; he looked relieved. Castiel hated that it was something he would have had to be worried about. A thought suddenly occurred to him. “Dean, back in Nassau, Sam and Charlie both assumed that you and I had...are you…” Castiel watched Dean’s mouth quirk up in a half-smile. He said nothing though, just watched, seemingly enjoying the spectacle of Castiel awkwardly trying to decide how to ask this. Castiel finally sighed and continued. “Are you attracted to men?”

“Damn straight!” Dean laughed. “Or whatever.”

Castiel chuckled and nodded. “So, you’re gay.”

Dean shook his head. “Bi,” he corrected. “I just figure that if I like you, I like you, and I ain’t picky about what parts you’re working with. If we got chemistry, then we got chemistry, an’ I’m not gonna ignore half the population as an option because of some dumb rule.” He took a swig of the bottle of rum he was still holding. “I just don’t see the point in going through life with one hand tied behind my back, you know?”

Castiel smiled. That was an interesting way to look at things. And it felt...comfortable, the thought of not needing to paint yourself into one corner but rather being open to whatever feelings or desires happen to arise. 

“It _ has _ been mostly girls, though,” Dean continued. “It kinda took me a while to realize that gender didn’t matter much to me.” He laughed and turned his body on the bench to face Castiel more fully. “Dude, this is gonna sound kinda dumb, but when I first started figuring out that I could be attracted to guys, I kept trying to figure it out based on whether or not I was attracted to Benny.” Dean shook his head and chuckled, his eyes wandering over to where his friend was currently working with Charlie to goad Sam into the revelry. “It kind of confused me for a while. He and I were so close, you know? I just figured that if I was gonna fall for a dude, he was the one that made sense. But when I’d try to think of me an’ him together…” Dean shuddered, “it feels like if someone had asked me if I was into Sam. And just...just no.”

Castiel raised an eyebrow. “No, that’s not surprising. Just because you’re attracted to men doesn’t mean you’d be attracted to any man.” He considered Benny for a moment. “I don’t think he’d be your type.”

Dean looked at Castiel for a long moment. “Don’t think _ he’s _ my type, huh?” Castiel couldn’t be sure in the dim light, but a slight blush seemed to color Dean’s cheeks as his eyes wandered over Castiel’s face. Castiel thought it was an interesting reaction. Dean licked his lips and looked away before continuing. “Yeah, well, you’d be right, I guess.”

Castiel studied Dean. “But not because he’s male, just because...he’s Benny.”

Dean took a swig of his drink and leaned back, drumming his fingers on the table behind Castiel. “Seems so.” Dean cleared his throat and looked at Castiel questioningly. “All right. So, what about you, huh? You got a, uh…” Dean smirked, “a ‘_type_’?”

Castiel sighed and looked out over the room. “Romance is not something that I have had the opportunity for.”

“Dude...never?”

Castiel shifted awkwardly. “No.”

He could feel Dean staring at him. “Okay, sure, no time for romance. I get that, trust me. But like...you’ve _ been _ with someone, right? You trying to tell me that you’ve _ never _ done a little roving around in all your travels?”

Castiel looked back at him for a moment, not really wanting to respond. He’d already heard from Balthazar too many times how weird he was for not being interested; he didn’t want it from Dean, too. He finally just looked away.

Dean grabbed his arm. “Okay, well, that settles it, ‘cause there are two things I know for certain: one, Bobby and Rufus are gay. I don’t care what anyone says...and two, I am not letting you go back to your ship a virgin. When we get to Port Royal, we’re finding you someone to cozy up to. You know what sort of people you’re into?”

Castiel cringed. “No.”

“‘No,’ you don’t know if you have a preference? Or ‘no’ you’re not interested in general?”

Castiel looked back at him. “I’m...not interested in what you’re describing, no.”

Dean nodded. “Ah. So you’re just not into sex.”

Castiel looked at his hands. “I wonder…” He thought for a moment before continuing. “The idea does not repulse me. It’s more that...I’ve never understood the obsession. With the right partner, yes, I believe that I would enjoy it immensely. But sex is not...something I feel a _ need _ for. And the thought of having it with random strangers _ is _ repulsive.”

“Hmm, I can respect that.”

Castiel sighed as he continued. “Honestly, I don’t know what to tell you about preference, either.” He looked around the room, at all of the people in it, trying to imagine being attracted to any of them, then shook his head. “All of these people just look like...people. They are _ pleasant _ to look at, I suppose, but not…” he tilted his head and chewed at his bottom lip, looking for the right word, “ _ alluring. _ No, they’re not alluring. I don’t think that I have ever met anyone, man or woman, who quite fits that description for me.”

He looked at Dean, wondering if he was explaining himself right, hoping Dean wouldn’t tell him that something in him was broken. Dean just shrugged. “Yeah, man. Some people are like that, too.”

Castiel smiled, thankful for the easy understanding. “Back to your original question though. While it has never come up, I think...that I am not opposed to a relationship with someone of the same gender. As you said earlier, I think that if I had chemistry with someone, it wouldn’t matter what they were.”

Dean stared down at his bottle. “Huh…” was all that came out. 

They sat in silence for a while, watching the others. Eventually, Dean stood. “Well, I’m gonna get back out there before Charlie comes and drags me out.” He rubbed the back of his neck and gave Castiel a small smile. “It was, uh, good talking to you, Cas.”

Castiel stared after him as he walked off. He watched the way that Dean grinned as Charlie pushed another drink into his hands and pulled him back into the fray. He watched the way that Dean danced and sang and stomped and got everyone involved. He watched the way Dean messed with Sam and easily slung his arm around various members of the crew and picked at and joked with them. He watched the way Dean’s eyes crinkled when he threw his head back and laughed, _ really _ laughed. Dean’s very aura seemed to comfort and liven everyone around him. Castiel found it…

_ Huh. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song they sing is called "A Drop of Nelson's Blood" by Storm Weather Shanty Choir


	15. Recessional

Dean pulled another couple bottles of rum from the crate Benny had just pried open. He looked back to where Cas was sitting, laughing at whatever wild tale Charlie was regaling their corner of the room with at the moment, Sam joining in occasionally to fill Cas in on parts that she left out. Dean watched as Jody and Donna laughed with Cas and easily patted him on the back or elbowed him as they all carried on. He noted the way that Cas’s eyes crinkled when he smiled and the genuine interest and affection they held as Cas interacted with Dean’s family. 

Cas...fit. Dean did his best to ignore the way that made him feel.

Benny slung an arm over Dean’s shoulders and leaned against him. “He’s getting along well, isn’t he.”

“Yeah. Yeah, he is.” 

“Hmm. Shame he’ll be leaving us in a couple weeks.” 

Dean swallowed. “Yeah…”

“You could ask him to stay. Between his medical knowledge and fighting skill, he’s not a bad addition to the crew.”

Dean scoffed. “Don’t be an idiot. He already belongs somewhere else.”

Benny just shrugged. “He likes it here.”

Dean looked back at Cas. Yeah. He did seem to like it here...and Dean liked _ that _ more than he should have. 

Dean always loved the new people they took in. It had taken him a while to get used to it, since it had just been him an’ Sam for so long; but Dean had learned to love their ever-growing family. He had started watching with satisfaction as each new member found their place, their home in this crew. 

But this was...different. Cas _ shouldn’t _ be finding a home here. It was dangerous. It was pointless. Even so, watching him do just that was doing something to Dean’s insides that he knew he shouldn’t put a name to.

Benny bumped Dean with his shoulder. “You should ask him.”

“I can’t.”

“I see the way you look at him.”

Dean felt his chest constrict. “It doesn’t matter.” 

Benny sighed and nodded. “If you say so, brother.” He clapped Dean on the back before heading back to the group with bottles in hand. 

Dean shook himself out of his thoughts and walked back to them as well. Benny was nuts. Whatever Dean was beginning to feel mattered little when Castiel was so convinced that his destiny was already decided for him.

Dean wedged back into his place on the bench between Cas and Sammy, determined to enjoy the night but doing his best to remind himself that it was temporary, no matter how much it was beginning to feel like Cas belonged. Cas would be leaving them soon, and Dean may never see him again after that. Actually, that was probably the best that Dean could hope for; because if he _ did _ see Cas again, it would likely be on the other side of a battle with Cas as his enemy. Dean recoiled from the thought.

He tried to remind himself of these things, but rum and late hours and laughter do strange things to logic, and he quickly became lost in the night, in the conversation and laughter, in the way Cas’s eyes would shine and get stuck on his own, in how warm and how right Cas felt against him. 

Dean and Cas stumbled out onto the main deck, laughing, the sounds of Charlie and Garth’s loud singing following them. Cas leaned heavily on Dean’s shoulder, Dean’s arm wrapped around his waist to support him as they stumbled along.

“Woah! What happened to _ you _ guys?!” Claire called down at them from her perch at the top of the foremast.

“We-,” Cas started before stumbling a bit. “We found the other ship’s liquor store!” 

“And?”

“And we drank it!” Cas called up to her, clinging to Dean for balance. 

Dean threw his head back, laughing at his partner, pulling him in tighter to keep him from falling over. “Come on, Cas. Let’s go sit over here,” he said as he led Cas to the back of the ship. Dean could feel Cas’s warm breath against the side of his face and looked to see Cas staring up at him. He tried to ignore the way it made his chest ache.

He coughed and tried to make his tone light. “You know, Cas, if you keep staring like that, I might get ideas.”

Cas chuckled and narrowed his eyes at him. “Hmm...no, I suppose we wouldn’t want that.” 

Dean chuckled and gave him a crooked smile as he half pulled Cas up the steps to the quarterdeck. He finally let go of him, and they sank down onto the deck to lean against the railing. Cas took a swig from the bottle he was still carrying around with him before leaning head back to look up at the sky.

“It’s so beautiful out here,” he sighed.

Dean studied the man sitting next to him, smiling at the wonder on Cas’s face as he stared up at the stars. _ It sure fucking is now. _ Dean sighed. “Yeah...yeah, it is.”

Cas’s mouth quirked, and his words came out a bit slurred. “Dean...if you keep staring like that,” Castiel cut his eyes to him, “I might get ideas.”

Dean laughed at having his own words thrown back at him. He grinned and snatched the bottle from Cas’s hands, taking a swig before answering, “Yeah, well...we wouldn’t want that.”

“Hmm.” Cas leaned his head back. “Hey, Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“We spoke earlier...about romance.”

“Okay?”

“Why are you not with anyone?”

Dean chuckled nervously. “What, you mean like...settled down?”

Cas hummed. “Or whatever the equivalent of that would be for a pirate. Others of your crew seem to have found such companionship in each other.”

“Yeah, it works out for some, but...” Dean fidgeted uncomfortably. “I dunno, man. Something like that probably just isn’t in the cards for me, you know?”

“Why not?” Castiel tilted his head, studying Dean. He squinted at him. “You don’t think you deserve to be loved…”

Dean looked at him. “Dude, have you met me? I’m like...ninety percent crap.”

Castiel narrowed his eyes. “I think you’re kind and brave and that the world could use more people like you.”

Dean blinked at him, then shoved Cas’s face away. “Someone’s a mushy drunk.”

Cas chuckled. “I wonder…”

They sat in silence for a while, just enjoying the night. After a while, Dean turned to see Cas facing him again with a lazy smile. “I’m glad I’m here, Dean.”

Dean swallowed. “Yeah...me too, buddy.” Dean thought back, trying to remember the last time he’d felt so happy, so...full. 

When Dean had first met Cas in Nassau, if someone had told him that he would find any sort of companionship in this strange and seemingly straight-laced captain, Dean would have laughed hard at them. But as he looked at Cas now, he was so glad that Cas was here. There was something about his dry-but-kind personality, his awkward sense of humor. Dean hadn’t laughed so hard in forever...and Cas just somehow made everything feel more complete. 

He felt Cas slouch against him. Dean took a swig of the rum and stole a glance at him. _ Maybe it means nothing, _ Dean tried to tell himself. He leaned his head back and listened to the sounds of the ocean, of Cas’s breathing, of the ruckus reaching them from the mess deck below. He looked at Cas with his face all pressed into Dean’s shoulder. He resisted the urge to press his own face into Cas’s hair. 

_ Yeah, it probably means nothing, but...I sure don’t want to move. _

He closed his eyes and worked to steady his breathing, telling himself that he was reading into things. Dean knew there were reasons that this was insane and that he couldn’t want this. There were...there were so many reasons not to want this. 

_ Right?_

_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title for this chapter is taken from Vienna Teng's "Recessional." It's a GORGEOUS song. 10/10 would recommend. Go listen to it (particularly my wlw babies)
> 
> "It's so beautiful here, " she says,  
"This moment now and this moment, now."  
And I never thought I would find her here:  
Flannel and satin, my four walls transformed.  
But she's looking at me, straight to center,  
No room at all for any other thought.
> 
> And I know I don't want this, oh, I swear I don't want this.  
There's a reason not to want this but I forgot.


	16. Allegiances

The attack delayed their arrival at Port Royal, turning the week-and-a-half journey into over two, but Dean didn’t hate it like he should have. In fact, as they sailed into the harbor, Dean felt a tightness in his chest where there should have been relief. He breathed in and rolled his shoulders a few times in an attempt to shake the feeling off and tried to come back to the conversation at hand as Sam joined them in the mess hall, saying that Charlie was getting them docked.

The plans for the day were being made. He, Sam, and Charlie would go ashore to The Roadhouse to meet with Ellen while Benny, Jody, Donna, and Garth would help the _ Duc du Maine _ crew find the things they needed, and the others would stay with the _ Impala _. Cas…well, they were actually kind of fighting about whether Cas would join them ashore or stay aboard the ship. 

It wasn’t that anyone was worried that he would disappear or make any sort of trouble, but he was still a naval officer...and probably should not have intimate knowledge of their operations and allies. They didn’t want to put the people who helped them in unnecessary danger.

Dean’s argument was that _ Cas _ was one of the people helping them. Maybe they hadn’t known him for long, but this was Cas. This was the same Cas who had risked everything and offered up his own ship and even himself in order to help get the people they had rescued to safety. This was the Cas who had fought side-by-side with them against a _ French _ vessel, whether he had realized it at the time or not. This was the Cas who had spent the last week since the battle taking care of the sick from the _ Duc du Maine _ and stitching up and caring for the wounded members of Dean’s crew. Cas wouldn’t do all that just to turn around and betray them. 

But while the group agreed to those points, they also agreed that it made no sense to risk exposing themselves to him even more without good cause. Benny stayed quiet through most of the argument, just watching Dean.

Sam ran his fingers exasperatedly through his hair. “No one is saying that he hasn’t helped us...but Dean, two weeks ago _ you _ wanted nothing to do with him. You didn’t even want his help. Now, you want to walk him straight into The Roadhouse with us? I’m not saying that I don’t think Cas is trustworthy. He seems to be. All I’m saying that is until Bobby and Rufus come back, we don’t _ know. _”

“Yes, we do.” He glanced at Benny, who said nothing but continued to watch him intently. “_ I _ do.”

“Dean,” Sam pleaded with him, “it’s not like it’s gonna hurt anything for Cas to stay on the ship with the others. Hell, _ most _people are staying on the ship. It’s literally everyone but you, me, Charlie, and those helping the _Duc du Maine _crew.”

“I know. My problem with it is the _ reason _ you all want him to stay on the ship. You want him kept here like he’s some kind of prisoner while he’s over here sticking his neck out to help us! And dammit, Benny,” Dean snapped, rounding on him, “if you got something to say, say it. It’s getting weird with you just sitting here staring at me like that!” 

Benny sighed but finally spoke. “Brother...he _ is _ a prisoner. I know you haven’t forgotten the whole reason he’s on this ship with us.”

Dean glared at him. “Of course not.” He narrowed his eyes and added in a low voice, “You know, that’s a far cry from what you were saying to me the other night.”

Benny leaned forward and looked at Dean carefully. “Did you ask him?”

Dean clenched his jaw and looked down. “You know I didn’t.”

Benny nodded. “Then the situation stands. If he’s going back to them, then it may not be an issue of Cas willingly betraying us so much as an issue of it being dangerous for him to have information that they can coerce out of him. Ultimately, brother, if he’s one of them, he should know as little as possible.”

Dean looked back and forth between them helplessly. He wanted to argue. _ Dammit, _ he wanted to argue; but he couldn’t, because at the end of the day, they were right. No matter how much they felt like they could trust Cas, no matter how much Dean _ knew _ he could trust Cas, it was better to keep him at a distance.

But that was the problem, wasn’t it? Dean didn’t _ want _ to keep Cas at a distance. Fuck, he didn’t want him to _ leave... _but he was going to. So how could Dean explain that he just wanted to keep Cas as close as possible for as long as possible until then? 

He couldn’t. 

Dean hung his head, offering a weak “I just think he deserves the benefit of the doubt.”

Castiel had tried not to listen when he heard the group arguing. It wasn’t quite time for lunch, but there wasn’t as much for him to do now that most people were feeling better, and he had ended up wandering into the mess deck a little early and heard much of the conversation. The reminder that, whether it had begun to feel like it or not, he was not one of them and did not belong here bothered him more than he thought it should. He _ didn’t _ belong here, and he _ did _have other allegiances, and while he wished the crew no harm, they were not wrong to be cautious. 

Sam noticed him first, surprise touching his features before they formed an apologetic expression. “Um...hey, Cas.”

Dean jumped and quickly turned to face him. Before he or anyone else could say anything, Castiel held up a hand. “I don’t know what your plans are for the next few days,” he looked at each of them, “but I was thinking that I would like to stay on the ship, if that’s okay.”

He looked to Dean, who was visibly upset. Even so, Castiel just...stared at him. Were his eyes always so green? How had Castiel not noticed before?

Dean shook his head. “Cas, you don’t have to-”

“They’re right, Dean,” he cut him off, shaking himself out of his trance. “Although it would never be my intention to betray or bring harm to any of you, I do have allegiances...and you have some operations that are better left unknown. It’s...actually safer for all involved that I remain ignorant of such information.”

Castiel watched as an array of emotions played over Dean’s face. They went from angry, to understanding, to hurt, to, finally, resigned. Castiel was unsure of why those emotions on Dean’s face made him experience feelings of his own, but they did; and it was strangely difficult to discern whether these feelings were pleasant or painful. He watched as Dean’s face slid into a careful mask that revealed nothing. That made Castiel feel things as well...and he didn’t understand those things, either.

Castiel huffed out a breath. “Honestly, I would not be opposed to staying behind anyway to care for our people who are still injured or sick. They are doing much better, and most do not require constant attention, but a few do still require aid. It shouldn’t take more than a few more weeks for Balthazar to meet us, and so I’ll be leaving you soon. I would like to help as much as I can in the meantime.”

Dean looked around at the group and then back at Castiel. “Fine. Have it your way.” 

Castiel winced internally as Dean stormed by him.

Dean grit his teeth as he marched down the corridor and roughly pushed through the door to the bunk room, slamming it behind him. _ Our people. _ How could Cas refer to Dean’s crew as _ our people _ sandwiched directly between talking about having other allegiances and leaving soon? And why _ the fuck _ did it make him so mad?

Of _ course _ Cas had other allegiances. Of course he was leaving. He was always going to leave. So what if Dean and some of the crew had kinda come to like him? So what if Cas had helped out while he was here? That didn’t mean he belonged here. It just meant that he had made the best of this unconventional, crazy arrangement and, as it turned out, he wasn’t a complete dick. A little scary at times? Maybe. Awkward and a bit stiff? Yeah. Misguided?. Yep. But he wasn’t a dick.

_ He was actually pretty awesome… _

Dean collapsed into his bunk and groaned as he hit the mattress. He wasn’t mad. He absolutely wasn’t mad, because there wasn’t a goddamn thing to be mad about. No, he was just in a mood. That was all...and he would suck it up and get over it.

He punched the bottom of the bunk above him. What was he doing? Sam and Charlie were out there getting ready to leave, and here he was hiding in his room like some kid throwing a tantrum when there was exactly nothing to be pissed about…

There was a soft knock on the door. 

Dean closed his eyes and took a deep breath. 

He heard a quiet voice through the door. “Dean?”

It was Cas...of course it was. 

“Yeah,” he answered as soon as he was sure it would come out casual. The door slowly cracked open, and Cas tentatively stepped through.

“You...left before the food was served. I’ve noticed you don’t generally skip meals. I thought I’d check on you,” he looked shyly down at the plate he was holding, “and perhaps bring you some.” 

Dean just stared at him, doing his best to stomp down the thing that was trying to grow inside him. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t allow _ that. _ How the hell did this start to happen? 

Cas looked down and set the plate and glass of water onto the dresser next to the bed. “I apologize if I’ve overstepped. I’ll go. I’ll, uh...go check on Jack.”

As Cas turned to leave, Dean’s next words slipped out unbidden. He tried to hold them in, swallow them down. It didn’t work. The best he managed was to turn them from a pleading cry into a quiet whisper…

“You know, we could really use a surgeon.”

Cas halted his exit and slowly turned back to face Dean in surprise. His brows drew together and his mouth opened and closed several times, seemingly unable to form a response. 

Dean didn’t give him much chance to find one. He jumped off the bed with a “Never mind. I’m just being fucking stupid,” as he stepped around Cas and hurried out of the room. He all but ran past Sam and Charlie declaring that they were disembarking that instant. 

He absolutely did not notice or care about Cas standing on the deck, staring after them as they left...not at fucking all.

Castiel stood on the deck, watching Dean leave. He was confused. He wanted to run after him. He needed to tell him...to tell him _ what? There wasn’t...he couldn’t… _

So, he just stood there and tried to put himself back together into a thing that made sense again as he watched Dean walk away.

“I’ll just...wait here then,” he whispered into the empty space between them.


	17. Novak

_ And even though this life, this love is brief _

_ I've got some people who carry me _

_ ~ For Island Fires and Family (Dermot Kennedy) _

Castiel was not sure how long he had been standing, staring into the distance at the spot where Dean had disappeared before he heard approaching footsteps accompanied by the loud clearing of a throat. He turned to see Claire standing behind him.

She crossed her arms as she looked up at him. “Jody wants you. She’s down in the sick bay.”

“Of course. I’ll be right there.” Castiel nodded and began heading that way. Claire surprised him by following. She didn’t say anything, just walked behind him as he made his way down. 

He walked in to see Jody and Benny sitting next to a young girl with dark, curly hair that Castiel remembered seeing hanging around Claire. _ Ah, _ he thought. _ This is why Claire came along. _

Castiel nodded to Jody and then looked at the girl. “What seems to be the problem?”

Jody rubbed a hand up and down the girl’s back. “We were kind of hoping you could tell us...since you seem to have some medical knowledge.” Jody laid the back of her hand on the girl’s forehead. “She feels like she has a fever, but we’re not sure what’s causing it. She had some minor injuries from the battle, but mostly just some scrapes and bruises...nothing that should be giving her trouble now.”

Castiel nodded. “May I look?”

Benny asked the girl in French if she wouldn’t mind showing Castiel her injuries. Her eyebrows knit in confusion, looking back and forth between Benny and Claire. Benny tried again more slowly. She tried to respond to him in broken French, apologizing that she couldn’t understand. 

Castiel crouched next to them. “I...wonder if I could help.”

Benny raised an eyebrow at him. “Is my French not good enough for you, Captain?”

Castiel sighed. “It’s flawless...but _ hers _ isn’t. What region is she from?” 

Benny shrugged. “Most of the people we picked up off the _ Hannibal _were from Western Africa, just far enough inland to be French territory instead of Spanish.”

Castiel furrowed his brows. She...didn’t _ look _ like she was from there; however, he decided that it wasn’t his business. He nodded and turned to the girl with a soft smile. “ _ Hello. Do you by chance speak Fula_?”

Her eyes lit up. “_ Yes!” _ Relief washed over her face. “ _ Yes, I do. _”

Castiel returned her smile. “_ That’s lucky, since there weren’t many other languages I’d be able to try. Please, excuse me, though, since my Fula is not perfect. _” 

She shrugged. “_ You speak it better than I would have expected you too.” _

Castiel chuckled and looked up at Benny and the others. “She speaks Fula. I admit that I never was fluent, and even then, I am a bit rusty...but I’ll do my best.”

Claire huffed next to him. “So how do you speak it at all?”

Castiel pressed his lips together before answering, “I knew a boy who spoke it when I was younger.”

Claire glared at him. “What you mean is that you had a slave.”

Castiel sighed, but nodded, looking up at her. “It...wasn’t my decision.” He turned back to the girl who was the reason he was here.

When Castiel asked about her injuries again, she said that he could look at them but that they felt fine. Rather, the pain was in her throat, hurting to even swallow, and she somehow felt both hot and cold. They chatted as he felt her temperature, looked at her throat, and checked her injuries for good measure. They were fine, but her throat was covered in white dots of puss. Castiel explained what was needed to her before looking up at Claire and Jody. 

“She’ll be fine, though she will feel horrible for the next several days. She needs rest and plenty of water. She probably won’t want to eat because of the discomfort, but see if we have some soup or at least soft foods she could get down. Also, if we have salt, dissolve some in water and have her gargle that about every hour or so, it will help with the infection.

When Castiel stood to leave, the girl grabbed his sleeve, looking up at him. She smiled and spoke in slow, thickly accented English. “I am Kaia.”

He smiled and nodded. “Castiel Novak,” he responded, pointing to himself. Then he added in Fula, _ “It is a pleasure to meet you, Kaia.” _

He turned to leave. On his way out, he noticed Claire staring after him with a curious expression.

Charlie followed behind the boys as they approached a dilapidated building with a sign that read “The Roadhouse.” She fought the urge to ask if this rundown pub actually _ was _ abandoned as Dean pushed open the double doors. Sam looked back at her and smiled as he held the door, waving his hand for her to go on in. She looked around the room. 

The inside was pretty quiet, too. As her eyes adjusted to the dim indoor light, the only human presence to be found was a body lying on its side on top of one of the tables.

Charlie tensed. “Oh my gosh, someone’s-!” Sam caught her by the arm before she could run over to check on him. 

She looked up at Sam, who was wearing an odd smirk, then over at Dean, who just rolled his eyes and started yelling at the corpse. “Dammit, Ash! I know you have a bed, man. Please, sleep in it like a normal person, huh? I almost have a heart attack every time I come here.”

The young man stretched and rolled over to face them, smiling lazily. “That’s why I do it, Dean. It’s too much fun to watch the way people react.”

“Freak.”

Ash smirked and shot Dean the finger, and nodded a greeting to Sam before his eyes fell on Charlie, lingering there. 

Charlie sighed. _ Oh god, here it comes, I guess… _

Ash smiled. “You’re new. What do ya say we-”

“No,” Charlie responded.

“Oh, come on,” he laughed. “I promise-”

Dean laughed and cut him off before Charlie’s face had time to build up the appropriate level of repulsion. “Lemme go ahead and stop you there, Ash. You’re barking up the wrong tree, trust me. Besides, she already said ‘No.’”

Ash raised his hands. “Consider the subject dropped,” he said with a grin.

Sam put a hand on Charlie’s shoulder and nodded at Ash. “Chuck, this is Ash. He may not look like much, but he’s helped us out of a bind more than once.” He looked at Ash. “This is Charlie. She started sailing with us about a year back.” Dean smirked and threw an arm over Charlie’s shoulders. “Actually, man, you might have some competition in the genius department. Kid’s a wizard.”

“Ha!” Ash rolled off the table and stood with a shrug. “The world’s big enough for more than one, I think,” he said with a wink as he headed to the bar.

“So, ‘Team Free Will’ has a new member, I see.” 

Charlie jumped at another voice to her right. She turned to face the woman who had spoken. “Hey boys,” the woman said as she pulled Sam and Dean into a quick hug. She glanced towards the door. “Is it...just you three?”

Dean dipped his head. “For now. We’ll explain. Bobby, uh, said to tell you hi. I told him he could tell him when he gets here in a couple weeks.”

Her expression seemed to relax a little. She turned to look at Charlie. Charlie thought that her face was not unkind, but her eyes spoke of a certain strength and grit that made it clear that this person was not someone to be crossed or underestimated. She smiled. “Hey, kid. I’m Ellen.”

“Charlie.” Charlie smiled back as she shook her hand.

Ellen nodded. “Nice to meet you. The mullet over there is my son,” her eyes moved to a point over Charlie’s shoulder, “and that’s my daughter, Jo.”

Charlie turned around. The girl who had just come in from the back was roughly Charlie’s age...maybe a few years younger...blonde, and very pretty.

“Um, hi...” Charlie mumbled as Jo passed by to set a crate she’d been carrying on the bar. Charlie looked up helplessly at Dean to see him staring at her with a knowing smirk, probably watching Charlie for her reaction, the jerk. 

Jo glanced back at her. “Hey.” She then scowled at Dean as she walked around behind the bar and opened the box. “So, what...she gets to go with you, but I don’t?”

Dean raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Not my call, kiddo. I’m just more scared of your mom than I am of you.”

Jo huffed and began unpacking bottles of various liquor into their places. “Hm, remind me to show you more of my scary side in the future.”

Ellen spoke up. “Enough, Jo. We have this discussion every time they come through. That’s no place for you; and besides, I need you _ here._” She turned to Dean appraisingly. “So...as much as I like you boys, I assume this isn’t a house call. Whatcha got for us?”

Castiel heard Benny’s whistle signaling that lunch was prepared. He found it fascinating how an entire language could be communicated in such a form. Castiel had thought it was simply a system of signals that this crew had developed. Then, some of the people from the _ Duc du Maine _had responded to one of Benny’s calls. 

Apparently, Benny had learned this from his mother, who was born on La Gomera of the Canary Islands, where they used a whistled language to be able to communicate over long distances, and Benny had taught a few useful phrases to the crew.

Castiel had tried to get Benny to show him a few days ago, much to the amusement of the others around. Jack, in particular, seemed to find it hilarious. Castiel had failed miserably at actually recreating the sounds, but he _ was _at least leaning to recognize a few of them. It was useful, Castiel thought. The sounds cut through the noise of the sea and conversation much more clearly than a voice would. 

He wondered if he would ever reach a point where he could effectively reply back, then shook his head, remembering that he would be leaving soon. No. He would not reach that point. He would not have the chance to. The thought made something in him hurt.

They were at Port Royal, and it had already been nearly three weeks since they had left Nassau. Castiel’s ship would be arriving in another week or so. He _ should _ be glad of this. He _ should _ be relieved to be able to resume command of his own ship, with his own crew, and no longer be held hostage by pirates; but something in the pit of his stomach that he couldn’t control just... _ wasn’t. _ Something in him was distinctly not relieved at all, no matter how hard he willed that part of himself to fall in line with reason. He took a deep breath and headed to the mess deck.

After getting food, he saw Jack waving him over to where he sat with Jody, Donna, and Claire. Castiel smiled and walked to sit with them, but his smile faltered as he remembered the conversation he had overheard that morning. He reminded himself that he wasn’t _ really _ part of this group, though it did feel like it at times. The reminder felt like a punch to the stomach.

Castiel tried to put these thoughts away as he joined them. “Jack, it’s good to see you up and feeling well.”

Jack grinned between bites of his food. “I had some help with that.”

“As did I,” Donna chimed in. “Thank you for all your help, Castiel.” She went to take a drink, but a sudden laughing fit had her coughing and almost choking on it.

Jody laughed and patted her back. “You gonna make it, there, sweetheart?”

Donna shook her head as she got herself together. “Yeah. I just thought about Castiel asking if we were sisters.” She snorted as a new wave of laughter took over. 

Jody chuckled and rolled her eyes, watching Donna with adoration. She turned back to Castiel. “So, what about you, Cas?” she said with a smirk. “Any, uh, ‘siblings’?”

Castiel returned the smirk. “Of the kind that you and Donna are? No, no ‘siblings.’” He put air quotes around the word and chuckled as Donna got cracked up again. Claire rolled her eyes at them.

Donna sighed and wiped her eyes. “Okay, so how about _ actual _ siblings? You got some of them, don’cha?”

Castiel looked at his plate and thought for a moment, wondering which truth he wanted to tell. He decided on the one that _ felt _ more true, rather than the one that more people knew. “I have one brother,” he answered.

Claire pulled a face and swallowed her food. “You sure you got just the one?” Castiel looked at her. That was an odd question to ask. “I dunno,” she continued, waving her fork, “you just strike me as someone who comes from a big family.” She raised her eyebrows at him as she took another bite.

Castiel tilted his head, trying to figure her out. Was she taunting him? Castiel had taken most of her comments up until now as distrust for an officer, but...did she know something? Had he been recognized afterall? He glanced around the table to that see the rest of the group had gone quiet, glancing back and forth between the two of them questioningly.

“I…” Castiel sighed, deciding on further truth, “I only had one who seemed to think of me as _ his _ brother as well. But I haven’t seen him in many years.”

Claire’s face darkened. “Yeah. Can’t imagine why.”

“Claire…” Jody started, but didn’t seem to know what to say, being as confused as the rest of them. Castiel, feeling that the conversation was becoming a little too personal for his comfort, claimed that he was tired and excused himself to his room.

An hour later, Castiel was staring at the bottom of the bunk above him, wondering why he was even hiding. It wasn’t like it was a secret who he or his family were. But when Dean and the others _ hadn’t _ known...and Castiel had enjoyed that. He wondered if it would make a difference to them. He huffed and half smiled as he realized that, honestly, it probably wouldn’t. There was very little rank or class among this crew. They were all just people doing their best in a world where it was far too easy to do your worst. Castiel reached and ran his fingers along the wooden beams of the bed. 

He _ could _ find a home here. He shouldn’t, but he could. It would bring far too much trouble to these kind people. But for just one moment...he imagined it anyway. He imagined spending his time saving people, instead of serving a- a father who was somehow both overbearing and absent. He imagined fighting beside Dean and Sam and the others. He imagined living in a place and among people who couldn’t care less about the circumstances of his birth that had defined him all his life. He imagined being part of a culture that valued freedom and let people be who they were. He imagined actually getting to practice the medicine he had studied and using it to help people he cared about. 

Dean had said they needed a surgeon…

Castiel squeezed his eyes shut and pushed the daydream away. He stood, deciding to go back up top afterall. He needed air. He opened the door and stepped into the hall to see Claire standing outside the door, leaned against the wall, looking at her feet. How long had she been here?

“Hello, Claire,” he said hesitantly. He waited. She didn’t respond. He sighed and began to walk past her down the corridor when a hand gripped his bicep. He turned to see her finally meeting his eyes, looking at him with a mix of suspicion, anger, and...something else. He waited, giving her the chance to say whatever it was she needed to say.

She gripped his arm tighter. “Novak is an interesting choice of name for you, Castiel.”

He swallowed. “It was my mother’s name.”

“Again...interesting choice, especially knowing what your father’s name is.”

Castiel’s eyes narrowed. “I liked her better.”

That seemed to catch her off guard. “Huh.” 

Castiel turned to face her fully. “How is it that you know who I am?”

She released his arm and stepped back to look up at him. “My full name’s Claire Novak.”

Castiel stared, trying to process the information and what she meant by it. _ Wait. _It had been so long since he had been allowed to see them, his brother and their mother, but it only made sense that at some point his brother would have…

“Are you- are you James’s daughter?”

She crossed her arms and nodded.

“You-” Castiel smiled and shook his head. “My brother...how is he?”

Her eyes went wide, accusing. “Don’t you dare. Don’t you _ dare.” _

Castiel’s mind was reeling. Why wasn’t she in France with him? “Wait...Why- why are you _ here _? Claire, where’s Jimmy?”

“You know good and well where he is.” She clenched her fists at her sides and spoke through gritted teeth. “A bunch of soldiers showed up at the house one day. I guess there couldn’t be two. Shit, you look just like him. They killed _ gra-mere _, too. Didn’t know to look for me is the only reason I’m here.”

Castiel felt the room spinning. Couldn’t be two? This had been about _ him_? No...

She continued. “The soldiers burned the house down around them so the bodies wouldn’t be recognizable…”

_ No. _

She shoved him back, tears building up in her eyes, her voice coming out choked. “In what world is it fair for them to die and you live, huh?”

He squeezed his eyes shut. “When?”

“Eight years ago.”

Castiel’s knees buckled under him. He choked out a sob as his hands and knees hit the deck. “That’s...not possible.”

“I dug their charred bodies from the ashes to bury them…”

“No!” He punched at the floor. “I- there’s no way. I’ve been sending someone to check on them, someone I trusted...to take them money and make sure they were safe. I-” He choked down a sob. “They- they said they were _ fine_. They’ve brought _ letters _ back to me from them. I- I...” Castiel leaned against the wall of the corridor and stared blankly at the floor.

“You- you really didn’t know…” 

Castiel looked up at his niece. She looked broken. He felt lost. 

“No, I didn’t.” 

He stood and met her eyes. His brother...her father, and his mother...her grandmother...they were gone. And she had been left alone for it. “Claire...I didn’t know. I would have done everything I could to stop it. I would have taken his place. I- I wish I could give you your father back. My mother, my brother, you...none of you deserved this.”

Claire was quiet for a time. She pursed her lips and looked away. “No. But then...you didn’t deserve to be ripped from your family as a kid either, did you.”

“Hah…Claire, I-” Claire took two hard steps and wrapped her arms around him. Castiel looked down at her surprised. “Claire…”

She started crying uncontrollably, burying her face into his chest, clinging to his back. “Just-” she choked out, “can we just stay like this for a second?”

He slowly returned the embrace and rested his face on top of her head, letting his own tears fall. He nodded and tightened his arms around her. “Of course.”


	18. Time

_ I know how to let you leave _

_ How am I supposed to let you go? _

_ ... _

_ I can't stop thinking _

_ How you just keep making _

_ Sense of all that was broken before _

_ ~ Not Broken Anymore (Blue October) _

Two weeks after they reached Port Royal, Dean sat on the dock, watching a ship come into the harbor. He heard a familiar set of footsteps and nodded to his brother as Sam seated himself next to him, hanging his feet off the edge.

They sat in silence for a moment, watching the ship as the morning sun began to brighten the sky above them. “That’s the ship, isn’t it...Cas’s, I mean.”

Dean nodded. “Yeah. Looks like they finally made it.”

He heard Sam blow out a breath. “Guess it’s the moment of truth, then.”

“Yeah...guess so.”

“Hope they didn’t run into any trouble.”

Dean lay back onto the wood and looked up at the sky, watching the stars fade out as the day took over. “Yeah.” He shut his eyes for a moment and worked past the lump in his throat at what had to happen next. “Sam, go back to the _ Impala _. Bring Cas, along with Benny and about twenty others. Have your effects...just in case.”

Sam stood to leave, but turned back briefly before walking up the ramp to the ship. “Hey, Dean? I think,” he paused for a moment, “I think that even if something _ did _ happen...I don’t think that reflects on Cas and his intentions. I think he’s proven that.”

Dean scrubbed a hand over his face. “I know.”

Sam nodded and left. 

Dean just lay there for a while, listening to the waves. He hated this. Cas had come with them as leverage, as collateral to make sure that nothing happened to the people who went with his ship. Now, the time had come, and they had to actually use him as such. They couldn’t not...but Dean was also certain that he could never actually hurt him. Cas was too kind, too gentle, too _ good. _ Dean couldn’t…

But he would have to pretend that he could.

An hour later, they stood on the wooden planks of the boat dock as Cas’s ship anchored and tied off. Dean could see Bobby and Rufus standing at the bow, looking down at them, waiting to disembark. That was a good sign. Dean huffed out a breath and couldn’t help the smile that began to grow on his face. He looked over at Sammy, who had that same relief painted on his face. Bobby and Rufus were all right. Everything was going to be fine.

Castiel stood between Sam and Dean, back in his navy uniform, with his hands tied in front of him. It was for show, but Dean didn’t like it. Claire didn’t like it either, and she had made that known. 

“This is so fucking stupid,” she had said.

“They need to think we would hurt him.” He had looked up into Cas’s eyes as he finished tying off the ropes. “Even if we never would.” 

Cas had given him a sad smile and nodded.

Now, as they stood there waiting, it was everything Dean could do to not reach over and cut those ropes off. God, he hated this.

The moment his boots hit the dock, Dean pulled Bobby into a bone-crushing hug. “This was a damn stupid plan, you old son of a bitch.” He called out to Rufus who was already making his way to the _ Impala. _ “Nuh uh. You’re next, so don’t you dare think you’re just gonna sneak off without saying hi.” He felt Bobby chuckle.

“All right, boy. We’re fine. No need to get all worked up.” Bobby clapped him on the back and pushed out of the hug only to be enveloped by Sam. He laughed and shook his head when Sam was done. “It’s good to see you boys, too. And for the record, yes, that was the most idiotic plan I’ve ever let you two idjits get me tied up in.” 

After being similarly assaulted with affection, Rufus grunted his agreement before pushing past them onto the ramp up to the _ Impala _. He looked back, a small smile breaking through his grumpy expression. “It worked out, though,” he said with a nod to Sam before continuing onto the ship.

Bobby nodded. “Yeah.” He made a face like he was remembering something sour. “That Balthazar’s crazy as hell and a little shy on morals...but he ain’t underhanded, anyway. I’ll give him that. We got everyone there and settled without any kind of problem, even if we did pick up a few annoying passengers along the way.” He chuckled and shook his head. “I gotta admit, it was kinda strange not having to expect an attack from every navy ship we ran into.”

A strange man that Dean had never seen stepped onto the dock behind Bobby. “Those are the perks of being official, I believe.” He regarded Dean with a smile. “Dean and Sam Winchester...I’ve heard much.”

Castiel stared in horror as Zachariah stepped onto the dock and addressed Dean. Why was he here? This was not good. Nobody was supposed to know of his and Dean’s arrangement. He looked up and saw Balthazar standing at the railing. He gave Castiel an almost indiscernible shake of his head before turning around and walking out of sight. No. This wasn’t good at all.

“Castiel! It’s good to see you in one piece! I was certain these pirates would have had their way with you by now.” He glanced down at Castiel’s hands that were tied in front of him.

Castiel addressed his admiral. “I assure you, Admiral, that these are honorable people, and their treatment has been kind.”

Zachariah raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure.” He turned to Dean. “And I assure _ you _ that your slaves were handled with care and that no harm will come to them.” He looked back at Castiel. “We’ll be taking our captain back now.”

Castiel stepped forward, but was stopped by a hand on his arm. 

“Not yet,” Dean said. Castiel looked to see him fixing Zachariah with a look that probably seemed fairly neutral to Zachariah but Castiel recognized as dangerous coupled with Dean’s tone. “We ain’t handin’ over anyone until we’ve conferred with our men.” Dean glanced back at the _ Impala _, then at the sun before continuing. “Give us until midday. If Rufus and Bobby confirm that everything is in order, Cas is free to leave.”

“Come now, Dean.” Zachariah held his hands out. “I can’t very well let you get back on that ship with my captain and me having nothing to wager for him, for ‘Cas.’” Castiel winced at the subtle acknowledgement of the nickname. “After all, we’ve already released your two men. Please, accept our show of good faith and return the favor. Release Castiel.”

Dean’s grip on Castiel’s arm tightened, though his face revealed little. “Five minutes. Give me five minutes. We’ll stand to the side and have a quick, _ private _ discussion. We won’t get on the ship, and I’ll hand off my effects if you’re worried about me killing him, but I’m not giving him back yet.”

Zachariah sighed. “I don’t see why not. The clock is ticking, Dean.”

Dean marched to the side, dragging Cas with him while Sam and Bobby followed behind. He tried to look calm, but something was wrong. Something was very wrong. He rounded on Cas as soon as they were out of earshot. 

“What the hell, Cas?” Dean tried to keep his voice low.

“Dean, what are you-?”

“No, don’t give me that. I saw your face when that dick in a uniform stepped out.”

Sam and Bobby caught up to them. “Dean,” Sam pushed Dean’s shoulder to face him, “what’s going on? Bobby and Rufus both said we were good.”

Dean glared up at him. “Yeah, well I don’t like that guy.”

Bobby huffed. “Look, Dean, I don’t like him either. He’s slimy, and I don’t trust him; but so far as I know, he hasn’t done anything to the people we took to New Orleans, and that’s what we’re here for, right?” He scrunched his face, confused. “So, let the captain go, and we can get out of here. What’s the holdup?”

Dean looked at Cas. He could feel his chest caving in. He didn’t like this. Cas stared back, his blue eyes studying Dean’s own.

“Dean...”

“Are you going to be okay?”

Cas tilted his head, his brows drawing together. “Dean, I-”

“Are. You. Going. To. Be. Okay?”

Castiel swallowed. “Yes, I…” He rolled his shoulders and straightened himself. “Yes, of course. It _ is _ where I belong, afterall.” His eyes softened. “Though, I admit, it has been easy to forget that _ this _ was the hostage situation.”

Dean felt like the air had disappeared from his lungs. He nodded. “Okay. Fine. That’s...that’s fine.” He looked at Cas, it hitting him that this might be the last time he ever did so. He-

“Your five minutes is up, Dean!” called Zachariah. “Are you satisfied?”

No. No, he wasn’t. But he didn’t know what to do about it. He untied Cas’s wrists — stupid ropes never belonged there anyway — and let them fall to the ground but kept his hands on Cas’s wrists, rubbing his thumbs softly over where they’d been tied. He closed his eyes and swallowed. He could feel Sam and Bobby’s eyes on him, but if this was his last chance to ask…

”Please, Cas...” Dean looked up at Cas. He couldn’t stand this. He didn’t want to run into Cas one day and be at opposite ends of the sword. Cas was kind. Cas was _ good. _ He wasn’t some pompous dick, and he cared about people enough to risk everything to help a band of pirates and the people they were trying to save. He didn’t _ belong _ with the ones they were trying to save those people from. He didn’t. He belonged with...Dean swallowed. “Don’t go with them.” He wanted his voice to sound calm. It didn’t. Whatever. “Sail with _ us. _ Sail with _ me._”

Dean watched Cas’s face contort through feelings that he didn’t quite understand. His eyes fell from Dean’s face and down to their hands. “I’m sorry, Dean.” 

Dean let his hands fall to his sides as Castiel walked away. He felt Sam’s hand on his shoulder. 

“Come on, Dean. We need to go.”


	19. Choose You This Day

  
  


Bobby watched as Sam shook Dean from his haze and pulled him back toward the _ Impala _ . It took Dean a minute. He kept glancing back over his shoulder to where Castiel was now boarding his own ship with Zachariah. Finally, Dean set his jaw and marched onto the _ Impala_, leaving him and Sam trailing behind. Bobby narrowed his eyes. He glanced over at the other ship, just in time to see Castiel look over his shoulder at Dean. 

_ Huh…Interesting. _

Bobby stepped aboard the _ Impala _and breathed a sigh. It was good to be home. He looked over to see Dean disappearing below deck and Sam running a hand through his hair as he turned away. Bobby walked up to him.

“You wanna fill me in on what I missed, here?”

Sam huffed. “Honestly, Bobby, I- I don’t even know what to tell you.”

“Well, you could start with how someone that none of us, and Dean least of all, wanted on this ship somehow became someone that Dean’s now begging to just up and join the crew.”

Sam rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah. I guess a lot can happen in a month…”

Balthazar spread his arms and grinned at Castiel as he stepped onto the ship. “Castiel! It’s good to see you back in one piece!” He grabbed Castiel and pulled him into a hug. “_ Cassie, _ ” he whispered, _ “I told them that you realized that this was bigger than one pirate ship, so instead of just enlisting them, you came up with this hairbrained plan of yours so that we could get inside knowledge of the whole operation._”

Castiel froze. “_ You what??” _

“Castiel.” Zachariah’s voice called to him from the door to the captain’s quarters. “Please, join me. There’s much to talk about.”

“_ Uh, you’re _welcome.” Balthazar whispered indignantly as he released Castiel.

Castiel huffed as he turned away and walked into the office beneath the quarterdeck. Zachariah leaned back in the chair and grinned up at Castiel from his own desk. Uriel stood behind him in the corner. Castiel grit his teeth but said nothing. 

“So, Castiel…” The admiral raised an eyebrow at him. “Or should I say ‘Cas’?”

Castiel fought the sneer that wanted to paint his features. He didn’t like the way his nickname that had developed so naturally sounded coming from Zachariah’s lips. “Castiel is fine, sir.”

“Hhm, very well, then.” Zachariah shook his head and studied him for a moment. “So, what did you learn?”

Castiel tilted his head in confusion. “I’m sorry?”

“What did you learn? You know, the reason you allowed yourself to be hostage among pirates for a month?” Zachariah laughed. “Hah! Imagine my surprise when there I am, doing an inspection of the New Orleans settlement, and what do I see? Your ship sailing into the harbor, full of runaway slaves but no captain! Castiel...you have always been a bit of a wild card; but I do believe this is a whole new level. We sent you to _ enlist _ them, not join them.”

Castiel stood silently, unsure what to say.

“So, will they be sailing under us?”

Castiel measured his words carefully. “Not...at this time. I don’t believe it to be much of a loss. They are not motivated by normal means and would be difficult to control. I believe we are better off without them as privateers.”

Zachariah nodded. “I suspected as much. Very well. Prepare a report. I want to know everything you’ve learned, particularly pertaining to their network and operation. For now, they mostly exist as a scourge on our allies, but I want to be prepared in case they become a problem in the future.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then I want you to send word to some of your privateers to clean up the mess in New Orleans.”

“Y- What?”

“Oh come now, Castiel. It was a fine ruse to obtain information on an entire criminal network that has apparently been existing under our noses, but we can’t just leave a bunch of fugitive slaves running around New Orleans. It’s a civilized colony, for God’s sake.”

Castiel fought down the bile rising to his throat. This heartless, racist…those were _ people_, and Zachariah was really telling him to go capture or kill the people they had all done so much to save. He _ wouldn’t _...but Zachariah couldn’t know that.

Castiel fought to keep the calm mask. “Yes, of course, Admiral.”

Zachariah drummed his fingers on the desk. “You know, Castiel, there are many who would love to see you stripped of your command.” He raised an eyebrow and his mouth quirked into a sly smile. “Don’t forget why this ship of yours bears the name it does.”

Castiel waited.

Zachariah leaned back. “Personally, I think that your somewhat.._ .unconventional _ ways allow us opportunities and information that we otherwise would not have. It’s why I advised Michael to charge you with handling the privateers.”

“Thank you, Admiral.”

“Don’t prove me wrong, Castiel. You may spend the afternoon as you please, but I expect a full report by morning. You’re dismissed.”

Zachariah sat at the desk drumming his fingers as he watched Castiel leave. “Uriel.”

“Yes, Admiral,” Uriel said, stepping up next to him.

Zachariah narrowed his eyes, watching Castiel talking to Balthazar through the glass pane in the door. “Follow him.”

Dean paced the bunkroom. 

He didn’t like it. He didn’t like it. He didn’t like it. 

Why would an admiral have sailed back with them? He obviously knew about the deal. That was bad for a number of reasons. First of all, Dean trusted _ Cas _ to not go back on his deal. He trusted _ Cas _ that no harm would come to them. He distinctly did _ not _ trust this Zachariah. 

Secondly...who knew what kind of trouble _ Cas _ was gonna be in? Anything else aside, Cas had stuck his neck out for them and was possibly being punished right now for it…

It didn’t set well.

Dean shoved the door open and marched down the corridor, ran up the flights of steps, climbed out the hatch onto the main deck, and went to the side of the ship, looking over at _ The King’s Grace _still anchored next to them. Dean scoffed at the name. Castiel was full of grace. Dean doubted that the king shared that trait. He felt someone lean against the railing next to him.

“Do you like this? ‘Cause I don’t.”

Dean looked down. “Claire…” He looked back out at the ship and swallowed. “It was his choice. He didn’t have to go back.”

“Did _ he _know that? You’re not exactly the best with words.” 

Dean couldn’t decide if he wanted to snap back at her, joke, or break down. “Actually...yeah. He did. Guess he didn’t take to us as much as it seemed like.”

Claire gripped the railing next to him. “Yeah...guess not.”

Footsteps behind them interrupted their conversation. “Hey, Dean,” Sam said as he and Bobby joined them. 

Dean turned to them. “So I guess we’re ready to head out?”

Sam and Bobby looked at each other. Bobby cleared his throat. “Actually, Dean, about that…” he looked at Dean kind of sheepishly. “You see, me bein’ on the other boat an’ all, I haven’t really gotten to, you know…”

Dean couldn’t help his smirk. “You haven’t gotten to see Ellen.”

“All right. You go ahead and wipe that shit-eating grin off your face.” Bobby huffed. “But...yeah. I ain’t got to see Ellen. I know we gotta go, son, but...mind if we stick around for at least the rest of the day?” He scratched at his beard as he looked over at the other ship. “Leaving in the night might not be a bad call anyway. Make us harder to follow an’ all.”

Dean nodded. “Yeah.” He ran a hand over his face. “Yeah, okay. We’ll leave just before dawn. I’ll have the ship ready for when you get back from The Roadhouse.”

Charlie appeared next to them. “The Roadhouse?”

Sam nodded. “Yeah, Bobby’s gonna go hang out tonight since he didn’t get to see them this week.”

Charlie’s face lit up. “We should go too.”

Bobby looked at her. “What?”

“Oh, come on! Who knows when we’ll be back. Let’s all go hang out and have some fun before we leave, huh?” She looked at Dean, her eyes begging.

Dean laughed helplessly and turned to Bobby to see a not altogether unsimilar look on the old man’s face. Dean shrugged. “Sorry, Bobby. Works better coming from her. Don’t worry. We’ll give you plenty of space. Honestly, I’m probably gonna crash soon as we get there anyway so I can get a nap in before we leave.” He winked, then turned to Charlie and laughed, reaching out and running a hand over her face to wipe off that confused expression. “All right, then. Let’s get out of here.”

Castiel stood at the bow with Balthazar. “I have to warn them.”

“Castiel, no.”

“Balthazar-”

“No. Look, you are _ hardly _in the clear as it is. You need do exactly as you’re told and nothing else. I barely scraped up an excuse for you once. I can’t cover for you again, Cassie, or it’ll be my own neck in a noose hanging right next to you.”

Castiel could feel his insides twisting into a knot. He looked out over the bow. “All those people...”

“The whole thing was a right long shot anyway.” He looked at Castiel sympathetically. “Look, by the time we get there, who knows if we’ll even be able to find them. Some, sure. But certainly others will escape. That’s better than would have happened to them had you not helped.”

Castiel grit his teeth. “I can do better.”

Balthazar put a finger in his face. “No. You have already done _ enough. _ ” When Castiel opened his mouth to argue, Balthazar stepped closer and lowered his voice. “Look, Castiel, I don’t know why he hasn’t come out to talk to you yet...but Zachariah isn’t the only one who came back with me. Cassie, you’ve _ got to _ toe the line for now. Please.” Without further explanation on the subject, Balthazar leaned back and resumed a normal volume. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, _ I’m _ going to spend our night here before we leave the _ proper _way.”

Castiel raised an eyebrow at him.

“I’m going to fuck off to the nearest pub, get pissed, and find someone lovely to spend the evening with. And _ you _ should consider doing the same, along with figuring out who you’re going to send to New Orleans so we can put this whole bloody mess behind us.”

Castiel looked back out towards the land as he considered Balthazar’s words. He spotted Dean and a few of the others walking up the dock towards the town. “You know what?” He looked back to Balthazar. “I think I _ will _ join you.”

Bobby pushed open the door to The Roadhouse, looking around the room.

“Bobby!” He looked to see Jo come bounding around the counter to throw her arms around him.

He chuckled and patted her on the head. “All right. All right. Good to see you too, kiddo.”

Jo backed off with a hand on her hip. “We didn’t think we’d get to see you this round. Glad we were wrong.”

“Hmf. Well, we decided it would be better to leave later tonight anyway. Hey, uh, where’s your mom hangin’ around at?”

Jo threw a thumb over her shoulder. “She’s in back. Want me to go get her?”

Bobby rubbed at the back of his neck. “Uh, no. I’ll go.”

Bobby hesitantly pushed through the door to the back room that was mostly storage, leaving the others to hang out in the main room. There was a couch and a few chairs for when Ellen or the others needed to hide out for a minute. He found Ellen sitting on the floor in front of the couch with a bottle of whiskey in her hand. He shook his head and smiled.

“Tell me you don’t just sit back here and drink the whole time.”

She startled and looked up, a small smile growing on her face. “Oh, whatever. You’re worse than Jo.” She shook her bottle at him teasingly. “Besides, I’m workin’. Don’t you see me doing inventory?”

Bobby raised an eyebrow as he sat next to her. “You smell like a bar.”

“We’re_ in _a bar, dumbass. Besides,” she wrinkled her nose as he sat next to her, “you don’t exactly smell like roses yourself.”

“Hmph. Well, I’ve been on a navy ship for the last month. What’s your excuse?”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Yeah, can’t imagine why my life would be stressful. I’ve got a whole growing community of people lookin’ at me to keep them safe, a son that’s well...Ash,” she chuckled and took another swig, “a daughter that wants nothing more than to go off gallivanting with pirates,” she looked at Bobby for a minute, “and a man I gotta worry about all the time ‘cause he_ is _ one.”

“Ellen…” 

“I know. I know. What you guys do is important. What we do here is important. But sometimes it would be nice to see you more than once or twice a year.”

Bobby sighed and put his arm around her, pulling her to him. “Yeah...”

“I’d say I miss you but it doesn’t make sense since I met you this way.”

He closed his eyes and leaned his head against hers, listening to the others carrying on in the next room. “I miss you too.” She went to take another drink, but he took the bottle out of her hands and set it on the floor next to him. “I think you’ve had enough. Come on, let’s get you washed up and let you sleep this off.”

“Anybody ever tell you you’re a pain in the ass?”

“Hmm,” he kissed the top of her head before standing and reaching down for her. “It’s why you love me. Now come on. Let’s get you upstairs.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” she mumbled as she let him pull her up.

  
  


Dean woke with a start to find Castiel straddling him in his bed at The Roadhouse, blue eyes staring down into his, a hand covering his mouth tightly. Dean let out a shaky breath as Cas slowly removed his hand.

“We need to talk.” His voice was low and breathy and Dean blinked up at him, struggling to make sense of the situation.

“I’m dreaming, aren’t I?”

Cas rolled his eyes. “No, but it’s not safe here.” He glanced around the room nervously. “We need some place more private…”

_ Uh… _ “More private? Dude, we’re inside my room.” Dean swallowed.

Cas nodded. “Exactly. Someone could be listening.” 

Dean glanced at the adjacent bed. Sam must not have come up yet. Sure, he could show up at any time...but they made fucking locks for a reason.

Cas slowly climbed off of Dean and stood, and Dean internally berated himself for his stupidity as he realized that he and Cas were definitely not on the same page here. He sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed.

Cas leaned over and pressed a scrap of paper into his hand, whispering in his ear, “Give me twenty minutes, then meet me here.” 

Dean swallowed. It should be illegal for Cas to lean that close, talk to him that low, fix him with such electric blue eyes. Dean should probably make some sort of rule. Instead, he just nodded.

Apparently satisfied, Castiel turned and left the room, quietly shutting the door behind him. Dean huffed and fell back onto the bed, very decidedly _ unsatisfied. _

  
  


Dean stood alone behind a small shop close to the harbor. He rubbed his hand over the back of his neck as he looked east to where light was starting to peek into the horizon. 

It had been way longer than twenty minutes. It had been hours.

Cas hadn’t shown.


	20. Whom You Will Serve

_ Smoke, fire, it's all going up _

_ Don't you know I ain't afraid to shed a little blood? _

_ Smoke, fire, flares are going up _

_ Flares are going up… _

_ ~ Bishop Briggs (White Flag) _

Sam watched his brother pace in front of the pub. They hadn’t left before dawn as planned. Instead, they had been searching for Cas all day. 

“Dean,” he started for the hundredth time, “I hate it too. You know I do. But for all we know he just went back to-”

Dean stopped pacing and rounded on him with a low growl. “So help me, if you finish that statement…”

“Dude, he _ told _ us he wasn’t coming with us! Heck, Dean, _ we’re _ his enemy! It really isn’t that weird. If anything, it’s probably _ better _ that we not talk to or see each other. I’m sure Cas just realized that and went on with his unit.”

Dean paused, rubbing his temples. “You didn’t see him last night. Somethin’ had him freaked. He said he had something important to tell me and was fuckin’ flipping out about whatever the hell it was. He was _ scared, _ Sammy. He wouldn’t even talk to me about it back at The Roadhouse, ‘cause he thought someone might be listenin’. There’s no way he just said ‘fuck it’ and decided to head off without a word. Somethin’ _ happened_.”

“Honestly, Dean, that sounds like he _ could _have been leading you into a trap.”

Dean turned to him wide-eyed. He jabbed a finger in Sam’s chest. “You take that back. You know better than that. _ You _were the one yesterday on the pier telling me Cas had proved himself. And you know what? He goddamn has. You-”

Sam put his hands on his brother’s shoulders. “Look, I’m not saying he would have _ wanted _ to, but...maybe he _ had _ to, you know? Maybe Zachariah wasn’t as inclined to just let us leave the way that Cas wanted to.”

Dean scrubbed a hand over his face. “That’s almost my _ point _ . What if he’s in some kind of trouble for helpin’ us, huh? Hell, what if you’re _ right _ and he was _ supposed _ to lead us into a trap, but then he didn’t? Or what if he was tryin’ to warn us and got caught?” Sam watched Dean deflate and look up at the clouds. “I _ know _ he wasn’t coming with us, Sammy. You don’t have to remind me, but...something happened. Something’s _ wrong_.” Dean looked through the window of the pub he’d been pacing in front of. “And I’d bet my last piece of eight that someone in there knows what it is.”

Sam followed Dean’s gaze through the open window and cringed. “Dean...there’s nothing in there but uniforms.”

“I know, Sammy.”

“You _ do _ remember we’re pirates, right?” Sam held up his hands in response to Dean’s look. “I’m not saying that I’m not worried too, or that whatever happened last night isn’t kinda weird. I’m just saying that Cas is a grown man, a captain, and among his _ own _ people that he _ wanted _ to go back to. It was his decision, Dean, and he’s not our responsibility anymore. I’m sure he’s fine. He probably just realized that it would look suspicious or draw too much attention to _ us _ if he had come to meet you. I’m sure he-”

Sam let his statement fall as two men approached them from the pub. “Can we help you boys?”

Dean looked like he was going to say something, but Sam cut him off. “Actually, um, maybe. We’re looking for someone.”

The two soldiers looked at each other. “Uh huh...so is that why you’ve been out here pacing and yelling at each other for the last half hour?”

Sam offered his best apologetic smile. “We thought we might run into him here, but it seems like we were wrong.” He grabbed Dean’s arm to leave. “You gentlemen have a good day.”

Dean snatched his arm from Sammy’s grip, turned on his heel, and marched back up to the men. “You know what? Maybe you _ can _ help us, actually. We’re looking for a friend of ours, dorky guy in a fancy coat, ‘bout yea high, dark hair, blue eyes, captain? Goes by Castiel?”

Dean watched a look of recognition cross the men’s features as they shared a look. The tall, dark soldier on the left turned back to Dean with a smirk. 

“Honestly? I have no idea who you’re talking about. I don’t know any captain named Castiel,” the man rumbled in a deep, honeyed voice. His partner snickered next to him.

Dean grit his teeth. _ Fuck this. _ He grabbed the man by the lapels and yanked him forward. “DAMMIT, WHERE’S CAS?!” 

He and Sam were suddenly surrounded by soldiers with drawn swords. Dean didn’t let the guy go. Something in the back of his mind told him this wasn’t smart, but...the guy knew something. He-

“Let go of him, Dean,” a low, familiar voice called behind him. “Men, lower your arms.” Dean let go and spun around. 

“Cas…” he breathed.

Cas barely glanced his way. He met the soldiers’ gazes. “I said to sheath your swords.” They reluctantly did so.

The man Dean had been talking to crossed his arms. “Ah, Castiel. Your friends here were looking for you.” The side of his mouth betrayed a hint of a smile. “You know, I would be careful of the company I kept if I were you, especially considering your situation. You wouldn’t want people to get the wrong ideas.”

Cas stepped into the man’s space, until their faces were inches apart. “Are you threatening me, Uriel?”

Uriel seemed to hesitate for a moment. With the look in Cas’s eyes, Dean couldn’t blame him. But then Uriel stepped in, challenging. “I don’t care who your father is, Castiel. You won’t hold your position for much longer. Blood will only get you so far as a bastard. You…” He withered under Cas’s expression.

Cas raised an eyebrow. “Are you done?” The man stared at Cas for a moment, a sneer growing on his face, but he finally nodded. Cas raised his chin. “Then leave. I’ll handle this from here.” 

Uriel narrowed his eyes and began to step back, still watching Cas. “Yes, I’m sure you will…” He and the others slowly filtered away from the area.

Only once they had all gone did Cas finally look at Dean. “That is the final time that I stand on your side against my own.”

Anger boiled up inside of Dean. _Really?_ Dean had never expected Cas to stand against his own; Cas just kept _offering_ it. Not to mention that instead of leaving last night, Dean and his crew had been sitting ducks here all morning looking for _him._ _What the fuck was that even about last night?! _But Dean’s anger dissipated when he took in Cas’s appearance.

He stepped up and grabbed Cas by the shoulders, eyes raking over his face. It was covered in cuts, and there were bruises forming along his jaw and above his right eye. “Cas...what happened to you?”

Cas’s lips drew together and a slight scowl formed on his brow. “It doesn’t concern you. Now, please, just go back to your ship.”

Like hell it doesn’t! I…” Dean closed his eyes and lowered his head. He gently squeezed Cas’s shoulders and took a deep breath to steady himself. “Cas...when you came to my room last night and asked me to meet you, you were gonna tell me somethin’. What was it?”

Cas’s face darkened. “I learned my lesson yesterday, Dean. I serve the Crown...not a bunch of pirates,” he began to pull away. “And I certainly don’t serve you.”

Dean froze, surprised at the acid in Cas’s voice, at the pain in his eyes. He released Cas’s shoulders and took a step back, gaping as Cas turned and walked away.

Dean swallowed. “Sammy...go back to the ship.”

“Dean, no. Come on. Let’s just go.”

“I’ll be right there. I just need to talk to Cas for a minute. Now, you go ahead and make sure we’re ready to leave. I’m right behind you, okay?”

Sam’s face was suspicious. He huffed. “Fine, but if you’re not there in thirty minutes, I’m coming after you.”

Dean hugged his brother. “Yeah, okay. Now get out of here.” He watched as Sam jogged away, then ran after Cas. “Hey!” 

Cas didn’t turn around. 

“HEY! Tell Zachariah I wanna talk!”

Cas stopped and turned back to Dean, eyes wide. “_ What?” _

“Take me to Zachariah. You were supposed to enlist me right? Fine. Tell him I wanna talk.”

Cas’s face contorted. “Dean, no. I...that’s not a good idea anymore.”

Dean crossed his arms. “Why not?”

“Please, just go back to your ship, Dean.”

“Why? This is what you wanted all along, right? For me to sign our freedom away, to hear you out, come work for you and yours?” Dean stepped into his space. “So, fucking take me to him.”

There was a slow clap from off to the side. “Well, well…” Uriel’s deep voice sounded. “Now this is an interesting development. If Dean wants to talk to Zachariah, Castiel…” he said with a sly grin, “then we should take him.” 

Dean could see Cas’s wheels turning as he glanced back and forth between him and Uriel. Dean was right. Something _ was _ wrong. 

Castiel grit his teeth and conceded. “Yes, of course.”

It was a quiet walk to the beach, to the ship. Castiel’s mind raced the entire time. Maybe this was good. Maybe this would convince Zachariah to leave the people in New Orleans alone...but he didn’t like it. This felt...wrong. This _ should _ have felt like a moment of success for Castiel. Instead, all he could feel was his own dread and Dean fuming next to him as they walked.

It was strange to Castiel that enlisting Dean as a privateer had been his original purpose. He didn’t want it anymore. He didn’t want Dean and the others working under him. He wanted the Winchesters to sail away their ragtag crew of found family and continue fighting the good fight...saving people, hunting slave runners, that odd family business they had fallen into. 

Two soldiers saluted Castiel at the dock as he stepped onto the ramp to board the ship, _ his _ ship, he reminded himself. It didn’t feel like his anymore. And in all honesty, though for now it was, it probably wouldn’t be for long. Zachariah had taken up residence in the captain’s quarters. Balthazar was in the wind, having taken off last night when Castiel had been caught sneaking out of The Roadhouse and brought in for punishment, rightfully assuming that he would be punished as well. Most of the current crew were not even _ his _ crew. Castiel wondered what had happened to them. He felt as though he had failed them.

Castiel pushed open the doors to the cabin where Zachariah stood, looking over a map on the desk, guards stationed around the room. He looked up at them with eyebrows raised.

“Why, Castiel. Dean.” He smiled questioningly as Uriel walked to his side. “This is a surprise. I had expected to see Castiel, but…” he turned his gaze towards Dean, “I had assumed that you and yours would be preparing to make way.”

Castiel was just opening his mouth to explain that Dean had decided to come hear their offer, when Dean sprung over the table and shoved Zachariah against the wall, holding a knife to his throat. His voice was dangerous, practically growling. “What the hell did you do to Cas, you son of a bitch?”

Castiel stared in horror. _ Why? _ “Dean...what are you d-” but it was too late. There were already six swords on Dean, waiting for the order. 

Castiel saw Dean cut his eyes to the side, verifying his situation, but he didn’t budge. He pressed Zachariah harder into the wall. “I know you did something. I know you’re up to something. And I’m not leaving until I get some goddamn answers about what’s happening around here!”

Zachariah glanced over Dean’s shoulder to Castiel. “Oh, Dean,” he said with a smile as he returned his gaze to him, “Nothing is going on here except that Castiel has finally come through and brought you to me as he said he would. However, if you’re going to be this unreasonable,” he said with a snarl, “then we will move this conversation to the brig, where you can stay until you learn some manners.”


	21. He Has This Weakness...

_ I wanna be king in your story _

_ I wanna know who you are _

_ I want your heart to beat for me _

_ Want you to sing to me softly _

_ 'Cause then I'm outrunning the dark _

_ That's all that love ever taught me _

_ Call and I'll rush out _

_ All out of breath now _

_ You've got that power over me _

_ ~ Power Over Me (Dermot Kennedy) _

Castiel watched in horror as Dean was dragged below to the brig. The green eyes that stared back at him bored a hole through his chest. They broke something loose inside him and left him feeling open, raw.

He heard Zachariah’s voice behind him. “You’ve done well, Castiel, though I had my doubts.”

_ Had he? _ Castiel looked at the door Dean had disappeared through. “Thank you, Admiral.” 

“Have men watch the ship and inform me of any suspicious movement. Prepare to set sail in half an hour.”

“We’re taking Dean with us?”

“He’s the bait. They’ll soon realize that their captain is missing and follow us. When they do, we will deal with the problem swiftly.”

Castiel felt his stomach lurch. “Admiral, while I agree that Dean was out of line, these pirates are not a threat to us. If anything, they have been a scourge on our enemies. They-”

Zachariah held up a hand. “It _ is _ true that, intentionally or not, they have largely helped us thus far. However, it is only a matter of time before they become a problem. They have proven that they cannot be controlled. We will draw them out of the harbor, blow their ship to kingdom come, then come back to round up whoever is helping them here. It’s bad for business to have such an organized group here working against the trade. Don’t you agree, Castiel?”

Castiel did his best to keep a neutral expression. “Of course, Admiral. Will that be all?”

Uriel returned to the room and whispered something in Zachariah’s ear. Zachariah nodded.

“Ah, it seems that I am wanted. Castiel, make sure everyone is accounted for and that we are ready to leave in half an hour. I have a meeting, and then,” Zachariah looked towards the door with a sickening grin. “I’m going to have a chat with our guest. If he’s talkative, maybe we’ll keep him around a while after we sink his ship.”

Castiel excused himself and turned to leave.

_ This was lawful... _

He clenched his fists and barked an order to make ready as he watched Zachariah disappear below deck.

_ But this was wrong. _

He drew a breath and walked across the deck to the ramp.

_ No… _

He stepped onto the dock, struggling to control the rise and fall of his chest. He looked to where the _ Impala _was now anchored on the other side of the harbor, having moved in the night. The sun was already setting. He thought of how everyone aboard was waiting for Dean to return to them.

_ No. _

He began walking towards shore, answering a call from behind him by saying he was gathering the straggling crew members. He thought of all the people who had been helped by the Winchesters and _ their _ crew. He wondered how many people would be in chains now without them. 

_ No. _

He thought of the amazing man who had dedicated his life to freedom...currently chained in a cell. Castiel’s pace quickened. 

_ No! _

He thought of Claire. He thought of everyone on the _ Impala _and how they would soon be on the bottom of the ocean. He thought of Dean and everything Zachariah would put him through before finally killing him…

_ NO!! _

Castiel was now running at a dead sprint. Perhaps he _ had _ done well, as Zachariah had said. For years, Castiel had been striving to do well...by his father, by the navy, by the rules...but he had not done _ good. _ Now, he would do good. 

He ran toward the _ Impala _, towards Sam, towards help. He could get Dean out, but he would not be able to escape with him alone. He rounded a building and ran directly into Sam, Benny, Bobby, and Claire. 

“Cas! What’s going on? Where’s-”

“Sam!” He grabbed Sam by the shoulders. “They have Dean. I have a plan, but I need help.”

Dean thrashed against Zachariah’s men as they chained him to a wall in the brig. It took them a while and cost them what looked like two bloody noses, a busted eye, and a broken jaw...but they finally contained him. Dean pulled against the chains.

Zachariah tutted and shook his head as he entered the cell with Uriel on his heels. “So _ feral_, Dean. I’m not sure how Castiel survived among such animals for this last month.”

Dean spat. “Cause we’re not the kind of dicks who beat our own men for no reason.”

Zachariah narrowed his eyes. “For no reason? That fool of a prince was tasked with the mission of talking a pirate into sailing for us as a privateer, and what does he do? He _ joins _ them instead and gives up his ship to help a bunch of hairless apes!”

Dean flung himself against the chains. “Don’t you dare! Don’t you fucking _ dare _ talk about people like that! Don’t fucking call them that! And as for Cas? He may be a fool, but you don’t deserve to lick his feet, so you keep his name out of your mouth!”

Zachariah smiled pleasantly at Dean. “I was hoping you could give us some information about this underground ring you have. May I assume that your hostility means you won’t be cooperating?”

“Fuck you.”

Zachariah lifted his head and looked down his nose at Dean with a wicked smile. “Good.”

When he snapped his fingers, Uriel stepped forward and began cutting Dean’s shirt off. Dean headbutted him.

Zachariah chuckled as Uriel punched Dean across the jaw. “Oh, Dean...rave all you want, but it won’t matter. You know why? I have patience. I have time. I have nothing at stake, and I am perfectly content to either drop you into the ocean or let you remain in this cell until the end of days. Neither of those options affects me in the least. If you decide to make this easy on yourself? Great. But this is honestly more fun.” Zachariah shrugged. His tone darkened. “But you...oh, you have things to lose: your life, your family. You know that, right? I think you do. In fact, I think you know that we’ll go after your brother and crew. I think you know that soon, your ship will soon be a decaying fixture at the bottom of the ocean, decorated with the bones of those you love. I think you know that when we’re through with them, we’ll come back and hunt down every last person that ever allied themselves with you.”

“You son of a bitch!” Dean threw himself at Zacharia,h only to be stopped by the chains connecting him to the wall. He pulled against them. They were long enough that he could move away from the wall, but barely...and it gave his captors plenty of room to be out of his reach. Dean growled as he struggled, glaring at Zachariah with all the menace he could muster. “I’m gonna get out of here, and when I do...admiral or not...I’m gonna stab you in the face.”

Zachariah laughed. “We shall see.”

Someone cleared their throat. “We’re ready to leave on your command, sir.” It was Cas. He didn’t look at Dean, just saluted Zachariah.

Zachariah smiled. “Good. Come with me to my office for a moment before you take the helm.” He looked over his shoulder as he exited the cell. “Uriel, make sure you show our guest a good time.”

Uriel sneered at Dean as he stepped forward. “With pleasure.”

Dean sank to his knees as Uriel left, locking the cell door behind him. It had been a long time since Dean had felt a whip, since he had been beaten quite like that. Uriel hadn’t seemed too picky about what he hit, either...legs, chest, back, arms, whatever part of Dean had been available to him at the moment. 

Dean pulled weakly against his chains. It did nothing, but at least he felt like he was trying. 

He dropped his head to his chest, thinking of Sam and the others. This couldn’t happen. They should have never made that stupid deal. Dean should have sailed the refugees to Florida or New Orleans himself.

_ How did this plan ever seem less risky? _

He felt foolish. He felt angry. He feld goddamn stupid for trusting a- wait...Dean felt like Zachariah had said something strange...

Suddenly, Dean heard a body slump to the floor, followed by the sound of it being dragged away. There was the distinct jingling of keys. He looked up to see Cas entering the cell and jumped to his feet. “Cas, what’re-” 

Dean found himself with a hand over his mouth. Cas stared into his eyes, intense, pleading, begging him to just go with it. Dean took a deep breath and nodded. What else could he do?

Cas slowly removed his hand from Dean’s mouth, but his hand hovered. He looked up and gently traced his fingers under a gash on Dean’s forehead. Pain crossed his features and his eyes wandered over Deans chest and down to his hands. 

Cas quietly undid his shackles. 

Dean didn’t understand. Just this morning, Cas had told him that he wasn’t with him. Hell, an hour ago he had walked off with Zachariah to plan the attack on Dean’s ship while Uriel beat him...yet here he was, undoing Dean’s chains...

Cas reached inside his jacket and pulled out two small pouches of...was that gunpowder? Dean watched with confusion as Cas walked over to the wall and began shoving one of the pouches into a crack between the floor and the hull, using the other bag to make a trail back to where Dean stood. _ Was he really gonna—? _

“Castiel!” 

Dean started; Zachariah had returned and was striding angrily toward them. “Would you mind explaining just what the hell you’re doing? I-” 

A gunshot pealed. Dean stared wide-eyed at Zachariah as the latter fell to the floor, bleeding from a bullet wound. 

Cas lowered his pistol and shoved it back in its holster. 

Dean didn’t have much time to process this, because Cas was now grabbing his arm and pulling Dean behind him as he lit the trail of gunpowder. He shoved Dean into a corner of the cell and pressed against him.

Dean squeezed his eyes shut against the blast, wincing at the sting of the contact against where he’d been lashed. He felt Cas’s arms come up to cover his head, his body pressing harder against him from the blast as the gunpowder ignited. The explosion was hot against his skin, but Cas had sheltered him from the worst of it. 

They stood for a moment breathing heavily. Dean’s fingers dug into Cas’s sides. “Cas?”

Cas clung to him. “Are you hurt?” Dean felt the slow drag of coarse stubble against his cheek as Cas backed away just enough to look at him. He winced as his eyes and fingers roamed Dean’s face. “Are you..._ more _ hurt?”

Dean let out a breath. “I should be asking you that, you crazy son of a bitch.”

Cas rolled his eyes. “It was a small explosion, and my attire is slightly more…” his eyes moved from Dean’s face and ran down Dean’s bare chest, “uh, protective than yours.” 

He said that, but Dean could tell that most of the material that had once been the back of Cas’s jacket was now gone, and there was definitely blood running down his forehead. Even so, Cas’s eyes lingered on the gashes across Dean’s chest. “Dean, I-”

“I’ve had worse.”

Castiel looked up at him apologetically, but nodded. “We have to go. Now.” He pushed himself away from the wall, taking Dean’s hand and pulling him towards the newly blasted exist in the side of the ship. “I took out the guards, but someone will have heard that...”

Even as he said it, they heard footsteps running down the hall. Cas stopped. “They’re already here.” He spun to face Dean, eyes wide, determined. “Go.”

“What--?”

“Go.” He pushed Dean towards the opening. “I’ll hold them off. I’ll hold them all off. Just get back to Sam...you need to get to New Orleans. Now, _ go! _”

Dean was suddenly falling, pushed through the hole. Before he even registered what had happened, he was already in the water, the salt stinging his fresh wounds. He swam upward, doing his best to ignore the pain.

He gasped for air as his head broke the surface and looked around frantically, unable to see much on this moonless night.

“Cas?” he called. There was no answer. “Cas?!” 

The sound of pistols and steel reached his ears. He looked up to the hole he had just fallen from. It didn’t afford much of a view, but there was obviously a fight happening. _ No… _

“Cas! CAS!! GODDAMMIT, YOU FUCKING MARTYR, JUST JUMP!”

Dean had just begun swimming back towards the side of the ship when two sets of hands grabbed him.


	22. Power Over Me

_ For all the moments never known _

_ 'Cause he stepped off of the tallest sail _

_ For all the love he'd left below in the waves _

_ He made his peace with letting go _

_ Said some things he'd never dared to say _

_ The one the lighthouse left alone, never saved _

_ 'Til set of eyes had pinned him _

_ Became his version of a kingdom _

_ ~Glory (Dermot Kennedy) _

“CAS!! Fuck! Let go of me!” Dean struggled against the hands pulling him out of the water.

“DEAN!”

Dean stopped fighting for a moment. “Sam? Sammy!” He let Sam and Bobby pull him into the rowboat. “Sam…” he choked out, “it’s Cas. He—”

“I know. I saw.” Sam glanced at the ship as he passed back an oar. “Come on, Bobby. We gotta get out of here before they see us.”

Dean’s head shot up. “What? No!” He shook off Sam’s hand. “No, we have to go back!”

“Dean! We can be more help to him if we go back to the  _ Impala _ . We’ll get back to the ship, then bring it around and launch an atta-”

“No! By then he’ll-” There was another explosion. Dean watched a figure fall from the blast opening. “Cas…” 

Dean dove back into the water. He ignored Sam’s cries as he swam towards where he thought he saw the figure fall... 

“Cas!” 

There was no answer. 

“Dammit!” Dean dove, searching blindly in the dark water. He came back up for air. “CAS!” He dove again and felt something brush past him. He reached out, and his hand caught the rough hide of a tail fin. 

_ Shit… _

He felt a of pulse of water hit him as it swam by again.

_ Fucking sharks. _

His foot hung on something...clothing.

_ Cas!  _

He dove down and flailed blindly at the water beneath him, relief flooding him as one of his hands finally landed on a thick head of hair. He gripped Cas tight around the waist and swam back to the surface. “SAM!”

“We’re here!” Sam’s voice called not far from him. They paddled towards him while Dean fought to keep Cas’s limp body afloat. As Sam reached over to help pull Cas up, Dean caught a glimpse of a dorsal fin to his left, heading straight for them. He grit his teeth and gave one last hard push beneath Cas to help Sam haul him into the boat.

A strong set of jaws closed around Dean’s leg and yanked him down. He fought to hold his breath against the urge to scream and began whaling at the creature, aiming for the eyes. A good hit got him released. 

He reached the surface, sputtering and gasping for air, just in time to see the fin of the shark as it rounded for a second attack, but he was ready this time. As the shark reached him, he pushed out of the way and delivered a solid kick to the gills. That bought him enough time for Sam and Bobby to reach him. 

“Damn it, boy! You just HAD to jump back in!” Bobby yelled as he dragged Dean back out of the water. 

Dean coughed, shook his head, and grabbed at Cas in the bottom of the boat. “Just get us out of here,” he choked. He pulled Cas into his lap and suppressed a sob. Cas was breathing. 

Sam glanced back at him as he rowed. “He’s out cold, but he coughed up about a gallon of water while Bobby was pulling you in.”

Dean nodded and squeezed his eyes shut. He rested his forehead to Cas’s as he fought to calm himself, fought to ignore the pain in his leg, fought to ignore the worry eating at him for Cas. In the dark, it was impossible to even see how badly he was hurt. Cas could be bleeding out in Dean’s lap right now, and Dean wouldn’t even know it until they got back to the ship... 

He clutched Cas to him, his voice came out hoarse. “Please...hurry.”

Dean sprinted as best he could to the sick bay behind Sam, who was carrying Cas draped over his back. Dean’s leg screamed at him, but he ignored it. The saltwater burned where he’d been lashed. He ignored that too. 

He stumbled through the door and to them as Sam dropped Cas onto one of the beds. Dean immediately began fumbling to remove Cas’s shirt and survey the damage while Jody came running up with some lit lamps. 

Chest? Could be worse. He had a pretty nasty gash, along with some light burns that were probably from that second blast. They’d need to be treated but weren’t immediately life-threatening. Dean pulled Cas up to lean against him, and Sam helped pull off and chunk to the floor what was left of Cas’s tattered jacket and shirt.  _ Oh… _

Dean choked back a sob when he saw Cas’s back. 

They were scabbed over, but along with the burns, Cas’s back was covered in lashes. Dean grit his teeth at the realization that this must have been part of the “lesson” that Cas had been taught for helping them. He laid Cas back down as Sam worked to remove Cas’s pants.

Now that they were down off of his waist, Dean could see that there was a bullet wound just above Cas’s hip. He rolled Cas to the side to inspect the back. No exit wound.  _ Shit. _ Dean shut his eyes. “Hey, Jody? Try to get the bleeding stopped on that gash while Sam checks his legs, would ya? I’m gonna get this bullet out.” 

Bobby grabbed Dean’s arm as Jody went around to the other side and started washing Cas’s chest. “Dean, let me deal with the bullet.” He grabbed a set of pliers and nodded at Dean’s leg. “You got some bleeding yourself to take care of.”

Dean took the pliers from him and grabbed a cloth. “I’m fine.”

“Uh huh…”

“I said I’m fine.”

Bobby grabbed the pliers back from Dean. “You got bit by a damn shark, ya idjit, you ain’t  _ fine. _ Not to mention the artwork on your own chest there.”

“Drop it.” 

Dean took a deep breath and readied himself to search the wound. He glanced down to see what Sam was finding, but instead caught a glimpse of Sam’s fist just before it met his jaw. 

He heard Sam’s voice asking Jody for help as the world went dark.

_ Dammit, Sammy... _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title for this chapter is from Dermot Kennedy's "Power Over Me"
> 
> I wanna be king in your story  
I wanna know who you are  
I want your heart to beat for me  
Oh I-
> 
> Want you to sing to me softly  
'Cause then I'm outrunning the dark  
That's all that love ever taught me  
Oh I-
> 
> Call and I'll rush out  
All out of breath now  
You've got that power over me, my my  
Everything I hold dear resides in those eyes  
You've got that power over me, my my  
The only one I know, the only one on my mind


	23. Want

_ Don't ask me _

_ What you know is true _

_ Don't have to tell you _

_ I love your precious heart _

_ I was standing _

_ You were there _

_ Two worlds collided… _

_ ~ Bishop Briggs (Never Tear Us Apart) _

When Dean jerked awake, Jody’s hand was quickly on his chest. “Easy, kid. Castiel may have got the worst of it, but you’re not in _ much _ better shape yourself.” 

Dean sat up and blinked at her, trying to clear the fog rolling through his head. “There was a shark,” he said simply.

“So I heard.”

He rubbed his jaw.

“Sam laid a pretty good one on ya, too.”

“Which was uncalled for.”

“Hm. Got you to settle down though.”

Dean almost argued, but Jody was wearing her mom face, so he decided against it. He rubbed his head. “How long was I out?”

“Just a couple hours. It’s not even light yet. Sam and I stitched you up the best we could, but you’re gonna have some pretty nasty scars. Of course, you’re lucky to be here at all.” She poked him in the sternum. “You should take it easy for a while and appreciate that.” 

“Ha...yeah. Thanks, Jody.” He looked around the room. Cas was on the bed next to him. Dean swallowed. “How is he?”

Jody looked over at Cas with a worried expression. “Well, he’s breathing, so that’s something...but he hasn’t woken up yet. Sam and I found the bullet and got the bleeding stopped.” She put a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “Hey...he’s gonna be alright, Dean. Give him time. He’ll wake up.” She sighed. “Look, I got some stuff I need to go take care of. You gonna be all right down here? Is there anything I can get you?”

Dean looked up at Jody, seeing the concern painting her features, and gave her a small smile. “Ah, no. I’ll be okay. Thanks, Jody.”

She nodded. “All right. I’ll be around to check on you.” She wrapped him in a quick hug before leaving the room.”

“Uhhg.” Dean groaned and winced as he swung his legs off the bed. He stood, careful to keep his weight on his good leg, and moved to sit on the edge of the mattress next to Cas. He let his eyes wander over Cas’s sleeping form. He looked too peaceful, too still. 

Dean lightly ran his fingers over the bandages wrapped around Cas’s chest. He fought the urge to reach up and trace the lines of Cas’s face, the curve of his jaw. He wanted Cas to open his eyes. He wanted to know what Cas had been going to tell him, what had made Cas change his mind, then what had made Cas come back and bust him out. He wanted to shake Cas awake. He wanted to run his fingers through Cas’s hair. He wanted to ask if Cas was coming with them for real this time. He wanted…

_ Fuck_. He just _ wanted. _

Dean swallowed and took a deep breath to steady himself. The hand that was not on Cas’s chest gripped the edge of the bed. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t let his mind run away with him, but...dammit, he _ needed _Cas to open his eyes and talk to him. His voice was a hoarse whisper: “Please, wake up, you stupid son of a bitch.”

“No.” 

Dean almost fell off the edge of the bed. He jerked his hand from Cas’s chest like he’d been burned, then looked down at the slight scowl that was forming on Cas’s forehead, eyes still shut. 

“Being awake hurts,” Cas groaned.

It wasn’t funny, but the relief that washed over Dean was so immense that he laughed. “Cas…” Dean breathed, staring down at Cas smiling as he slowly, finally, opened his eyes.

“Hello, Dean.”

_ Fuck… _

Now, Dean’s first love was the sea. It always would be, its blue stretching deep into the abyss and on to forever with all of its vastness and depth and beauty and promises of freedom. But in that moment...staring into those eyes...Dean was sure that he could never again in good conscience call anything else “vast” or “beautiful” or “blue.”

“Hey, Cas,” he almost whispered. He cleared his throat and looked away. “So, you uh, really saved my ass back there.”

“Hmm.” Dean glanced back to see Cas surveying his surroundings. “Considering that I’m not at the bottom of the ocean, it would seem that you ‘saved my ass’ as well.” He smiled at Dean, then winced as he worked to get upright.

“Easy…” Dean said as he helped Cas sit up.

“Dean.” Cas grabbed his shoulder, eyes boring into him. “I told you to _ go_.”

“Like hell.”

“Why did you come back for me?”

“Well, I’d be one hell of a bastard if I didn’t after you’d stormed the fortress to save me.”

Cas’s brows knit together. “There was no ‘fortress,’ Dean. You were on a ship.”

“Yeah, I know. It- it’s an expression, Ca-” Dean scrubbed a hand down his face. “Never mind. Point is, we don’t leave fam-” Dean caught himself, “I wasn’t leaving you behind, okay?” He turned, propped his elbows on his knees, and scratched at his head. “Don’t worry. You’re not a hostage or prisoner or anything. If you want, we can find somewhere safe for you. Once you’re healed, we’ll take you wherever you wanna go. Promise.” Dean swallowed and rubbed his temples. “I know you don’t want to come with us, Cas, but...at least...let me keep you safe until you’re-”

“Dean…” Cas stopped him. Dean looked up to see Cas studying him, eyes squinted and head tilted to the side. “You think that I don’t want to come with you.”

Dean pressed his lips together, searching Cas’s face. Of course he thought that. “Cas, you were pretty clear on that. I asked you...and it’s fine; you don’t want this. This life isn’t for everyone, and I get that. So, as soon as you’re better, I’ll tell Sam to steer us wherever you want to go. Just, please, don’t do anything stupid like…”

He let the statement fall. The look in Cas’s eyes made his brain stop working. 

“Dean, I’m sorry for what I said outside the pub.”

“It’s okay, Cas.”

“I thought that I _ shouldn’t _ come with you, that I belonged to the Crown.”

“Do you still think that?”

“I think...that my presence here on this ship proves otherwise.”

Dean almost lost himself in the shocking blue looking back at him. He put his face in his hands and swallowed. “Your presence here proves that I pulled you from the water after you told me to leave without you. What do you _ want _ Cas?”

“I don’t think I should go back to them.”

“Agreed. Where do you want to go?”

“I think I should go with you.”

“Cas…” Dean hissed and looked back up to face him. “Enough with the ‘should.’ What do you _ want?” _

Dean sat frozen as Cas lifted a hand and placed it on the side of his face, stroking his thumb over his cheekbone. “Dean, I…” 

Dean struggled not to lean in to the touch as he waited for an answer. He let his eyes wander down to Cas’s lips, pink, soft, just a little too dry. He wanted to wet them. He wanted to know what that mouth tasted like. He wanted to run his fingers up into that mess of dark hair, pull Cas to him, and never let go. He…_ shit. _

Dean waited and realized, with a shaky breath, that however Cas responded to his question, Dean was completely and irrevocably screwed. 

He wasn’t sure when it had happened...maybe it was when Cas had saved him last night. Maybe it was when they stayed up late, tired and drunk, out on the deck of the _ Impala _talking and looking at the stars. Or maybe it went all the way back to the first time Dean saw Cas looking down at him after Cas had ‘gripped him tight and pulled him from Perdition’...but somewhere along the way, he had fallen for this man that he had no right to fall for.

Yeah. He was screwed.

Castiel considered Dean’s question and the distinction Dean had made: what _ did _ he want?

Castiel had always lived based on the _ should. _ Even when he had saved Dean, it was largely because it felt _ right. _ Dean and the others were good. They _ shouldn’t _be hunted. “I want you to be safe,” he started, stroking his thumb over Dean’s cheek. But now that they had escaped...what else did he want?

“I don’t want to have to be against you,” he added, his free hand also raising to rest on Dean’s shoulder. He thought about the month he had spent with Dean’s crew. He thought about the fight with the _ Duc du Maine _ and everything that he had seen. He wanted to be _ here _ . He wanted to _ help _ . “I want to help people. I want to fight beside you to save people and hunt the monsters who would enslave them.” He pressed his lips together as Dean continued to wait. What _ else _did he want?

He looked into Dean’s eyes, liquid green, warm...he could stare at them forever. “Oh...” 

He realized he _ wanted _to.

He wanted to never have to look anywhere else again but at this kind, beautiful, fierce man who loved people and freedom. His fingers grew bolder and began to reach around to cup the back of Dean’s neck, feeling at the hairline there. His thumb moved slowly along Dean’s jaw. “I..” Castiel wanted to trace the soft curves of Dean’s face, Dean’s lips. He wanted…

Castiel raked his teeth over his bottom lip and watched the way that Dean’s tongue wet his own. “What I want…” Castiel stopped, afraid to say it out loud: Dean_. _

He wanted _ Dean _. 

But did Dean want him? Castiel searched Dean’s eyes, measured the way that Dean’s breath hitched in his chest and how he leaned in to Castiel’s touch...and Castiel slowly, slowly leaned in...

The door to the sick bay swung open. Dean jumped and fell back onto his own bed as Sam entered the room. “Hey, Dean. Jody said you were...Cas? You’re awake too! That’s great. You had us pretty worried. How are you feeling?”

Castiel sat frozen, eyes wide, mouth hanging open, hands still almost comically held in the air where Dean’s face just had been. He blinked and turned his bewildered expression to Sam. 

“I- I feel fine. I’m...hurting...I think.”

Sam nodded and knelt next to his bed. “Makes sense. You’re pretty beat up. I’ll have to go tell Claire and Jack you’re awake. They’ve been asking about you two every time someone came out of here.” He raised his brows and shook his head, “Really, Cas...when we pulled you out of the water last night, I thought you were already gone. And then Dean…” Sam’s face darkened and he glanced at Dean before continuing, “well, Bobby and I thought we’d lost both of you.”

Castiel blinked at Sam. _ What? _He looked at Dean, who was glaring daggers at his brother. “Dean, what is he talking about?”

Dean snapped his head in Castiel’s direction. “Nothing, Cas.”

Castiel’s eyes wandered over him, finally noticing the bloody bandages wrapped around his leg. “Dean, wha-”

“Look...there was a shark. I kicked its ass. End of story.” Dean looked up at Sam. “So, uh, nobody’s said anything about what’s going on up top. They following us?”

Sam shook his head. “Not...that we can tell. Cas blasted the side of their ship pretty good, and we fired back a few rounds as we left, so I bet we have a pretty good head start but...I doubt they’ll just let this go. It’s actually what I came down here for. We need to talk about where we want to go from here.”

Castiel gasped. _ New Orleans… _ “They’re going to attack New Orleans...to round up the people we sent there. We need to get there first.”

Sam stared at him. “You’re sure?”

“They...wanted me to oversee it. It’s…” he looked at Dean, “what I was coming to tell you, but they had followed me. I was caught. They may be more cautious now. They’ll assume I’ve told you this, but Zachariah was adamant about it. I’m sure it’s still the plan, even if the logistics may be altered.” 

The brothers shared a look and nodded. “Okay,” Sam said. “I’ll go set a course for New Orleans.” 

Dean stood, putting a hand on Sam’s shoulder for balance. “I’ll go get the gang together. We need to figure out a plan for when we get there.”

“Dude.” Sam tried to guide him back to the bed. “Stay. I’ll tell everyone to just come down here and-”

“Oh, come on, Sammy. You don’t really expect me to just sit around down here, huh? Besides, Cas…” Dean’s eyes flicked briefly to Castiel, “needs rest. We don’t need to have the whole group in here not letting him sleep.” 

Castiel tried to protest that he was fine, but Dean just waved it off as he limped out of the room with Sam in tow. 

Castiel carefully lay back down on the bed and draped an arm over his face, the embarrassment of almost kissing Dean...and then Dean running away...crashing down on him. He choked down a sob.

_ What was he thinking? _

A few hours and a brief nap later, Dean lay in bed staring at the ceiling as the sunlight began filtering into the sick bay. He could have slept in his room. His own bunk would have been more comfortable than this cot in the sick bay, but...he looked over at Cas in the neighboring cot.

Dean suppressed a groan and draped an arm over his face. Cas was going to kiss him. It- it really _ seemed _ like Cas was going to kiss him. He tried to tell himself that he was crazy, but no matter how many times tried to tell himself that he was reading into things, that there was no way, that maybe he’d been delirious from blood loss and exhaustion...his mind kept going back to the way Cas’s hands had felt, the way Cas had looked at him, the way Cas had leaned in as he told Dean the things he wanted…

Then Sam had walked in and Dean just...freaked. _ Why? _No. That was a dumb question. He knew exactly why he’d freaked out. 

Dean had never really worried about being with someone before. He had always kissed who he wanted: men, women, whoever. He wasn’t new to such things...but he _ was _ new to the possibility of seeing the people he kissed beyond the next morning. Dean had no idea how to be _ with _ a person, how to actually _ stay _ with someone. And Cas made him want...something else, something that he’d never had before.

He heard Cas stirring next to him, so he took a deep breath, put on his very best not-freaked-out-at-all face, and turned on his side to face him. “Mornin’, sunshine.”

Cas groaned and peeked at him through one slightly opened eye. “Hello, Dean,” he mumbled.

Dean sat up, wincing at the pain in his leg and the stretching of the now-scabbing over lashes all over his body. He watched Cas slowly join the waking world, thinking that he really wouldn’t mind doing this every morning.

He had freaked out yesterday. He wouldn’t today. Dean gripped the edge of the bed. If Cas wanted to kiss him, then he’d kiss him back, dammit. He’d-

Cas squinted up at him. “Dean, are you all right? You look...in pain.”

“No. Yes. I mean...I’m fine. Really.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to work up his nerve. “Hey, Cas?”

Cas looked up at him with questioning eyes. “Yes, Dean?”

“I, uh- just…” _ Shit. _Later, then. He’d not freak out later. “Ah, scoot over and let me have a look at you, huh? We need to make sure your stuff isn’t getting infected. You could probably use some fresh wrapping anyway.” 

Dean stood and grabbed a stack of fresh bandages from a shelf on the wall behind him. _ Yeah_, he told himself, he’d not be a coward _ later_.

Cas narrowed his eyes suspiciously, but nodded and made room for Dean to sit next to him. Dean relocated, carefully favoring the leg the shark had dragged him down by.

Cas raised an eyebrow. “When you’re done, you should let me check your wounds as well.”

Dean shook his head and helped Cas sit up so he could unwrap his chest. “Nah. It’s fine, Cas.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

“Yeah, yeah…”

“I’m _ serious, _ Dean.”

Dean chuckled. “You just want to get my pants off me,” Dean joked with a wink. It was a reflex. He didn’t really even mean it, but the color that spread across Cas’s cheeks in response was...kinda nice.

Cas just pressed his lips together and looked away while Dean worked. They sat in silence for the rest of the time Dean spent inspecting and re-dressing all of Cas’s injuries. When Dean got up to gather the soiled bandages, Cas caught him by the arm.

He fixed Dean with a serious look. “I still intend to look at that leg.” His eyes moved to Dean’s chest. “The rest of it, too.”

Dean swallowed. “Yeah...yeah, okay.”


	24. The Family That Ships Together

_ Hold on, to me as we go _

_ As we roll down this unfamiliar road _

_ And although this wave is stringing us along _

_ Just know you're not alone_

_I'm gonna make this place your home_

_ ~ Home (Phillip Phillips) _

Once Cas was well enough, they moved back to the bunk rooms. Back when Cas had first joined them, Dean had put him in Bobby’s bunk so it’d be easier to keep an eye on him. However, now that Bobby and Rufus were back, Dean had made preparations for Cas to move into the spare bunk under Garth in a different room.

Bobby and Rufus passed them in the hall carrying their things. “Nuh-uh. Go back that way,” Bobby said, pointing back in the direction of Dean’s room.

Dean stared at him, puzzled. “What?”

Bobby huffed. “Cas can have my bunk. He’s used to it anyway.” 

Cas squinted at them. “You don’t have to do that. Thank you...but I will be fine down the hall. Please, don’t move on my account.”

“Ha!” Rufus exclaimed as he adjusted the effects he was carrying. “Hear that Bobby? He said he’d be fine.” He glared at Bobby, obviously annoyed.

Bobby rolled his eyes. “I don’t know why you’re grumbling. It’s not like Cas here needs two beds. _ I’m _ moving. That ain’t got nothin’ to do with _ your _ bunk.”

Rufus sputtered. “You really think I’m gonna stay back there with the lovebirds sleeping under me?”

“Oh, shut up, and just admit you’d miss me.”

Dean laughed as Rufus turned a particularly awesome shade of purple and stomped off, then smiled at his friend. “Seriously, Bobby, you guys don’t have to move. I already have Cas set up in a room on the other end.”

Bobby just rolled eyes and walked off, mumbling something about not being blind. Dean pretended not to catch that, almost as hard as he was pretending that he couldn’t feel his face turning red. _ Whatever. _

Cas leaned into him and asked quietly in his ear, a concerned tone in his voice, “Does Rufus know about Ellen?”

Dean threw his head back laughing, then almost doubled over with it. After a minute, he wiped the tears from his eyes to see a very confused-looking Cas. “Oh man,” he said, “please, ask them that next time you get the chance. It’s their favorite thing.”

Cas’s confused scowl only deepened, which was more adorable than it had a right to be. 

A thought occurred to Dean. “Wait...how do _ you _ know about Ellen?”

Now it was Cas’s turn to blush. “I, um, whenever I came to find you at The Roadhouse…”

“Uh huh?”

“Well, I didn’t know which room was yours and...accidentally found their room first.”

Dean cracked up again.

“It’s not funny, Dean.”

“Yeah. Yeah, it kinda is.” Dean patted Cas on the side of the head and turned to lead them back in the direction of his...no..._ their _room, ducking to hide the grin that was taking over his face at the thought.

Castiel eased onto the bench at a table in the mess room. He looked up at Donna, who was hovering like she expected him to collapse any second, then glanced to his left and chuckled at Dean shooing off Jody, who was doing the same thing to him. 

Dean waved his crutch at them. “We’re fine, _ Moms. _We just both got a side we need to be careful with is all. We’re not helpless.”

Donna reached out and patted Dean’s cheek. “You boys hafta let people take care of you too sometimes.”

Jody huffed. “Exactly. I seem to remember about a month ago when a certain someone insisted on carrying me around for two days any time I wanted to go somewhere after I got shot. You know...seems like I still had one good leg too.” She eyed Dean challengingly. “So deal with it.”

Donna nodded. “Not to mention Mr. Medicine over here seemed to think it was his sole duty to watch the sick bay and ran himself ragged taking care of everyone after that attack.” She pulled Jody by the arm as she walked to the end of the row. “Come on, let's go grab some food for them before they try to get it themselves.”

Dean crossed his arms and sulked. Castiel looked at him, amused. “They are very cruel to you. Would you like me to talk to them?” he deadpanned.

“Oh, blow me, Cas,” Dean replied, but there was no malice in it.

Castiel chuckled. “I like your family.”

Dean smiled as he watched Donna and Jody disappear into the kitchen. “Yeah, me too.”

Claire, Kaia, and Jack filed out of the kitchen with their own full plates and plopped down across from them. Jack grinned. “We’re_ your _family too now, Castiel.” 

Claire looked up at Castiel and winked as she took a bite to hide her smirk. He wasn’t sure why, but she hadn’t told anyone about who he was or his relation to her. He didn’t get the feeling she was ashamed...more like it was a shared secret. 

Castiel smiled at them. “Thank you, Jack. That makes me very happy.” He turned to Kaia and asked in Fula, “_How are you doing today, Kaia?” _

Kaia’s face lit up. She leaned into Claire a little with a shy smile. “_I’m...doing very well, actually.” _

_ “Haha, so it seems. You two seem close. Can you...talk to each other?” _

Kaia shrugged. “_We’re learning. We only know a few words here and there so far, but even so...we understand each other.” _

Claire pointed her fork at Castiel. “I know you’re talking about me, assholes.”

Castiel laughed. “Only good things, I promise.”

He contemplated the two girls sitting across from him; they had both been through so much. His niece, who had lost her family, and this bright young woman who had been ripped away from hers, had, like so many, found a home and a family here. Actually, Castiel was still a little curious about Kaia…

“_Kaia, do you mind if I ask you something?” _he began cautiously.

She shrugged. “_ Probably not. What is it?” _

“_Are you...from the same area as the others you were with on the Hannibal?” _

She smirked. “_ You want to know why I look different.” _

Castiel looked down awkwardly. _ “I am curious, yes. I also realize that it may be a more personal question than I should ask.” _

She laughed and shook her head. _ “No, I don’t mind. The short answer is ‘yes.’ I am from the same area. However, my father was Spanish. That’s a longer story, though.” _

Kaia didn’t continue, and Castiel didn’t press her for more; after all, he knew a thing or two about fathers and longer stories. He felt Dean stand next to him and pat him on the shoulder. “I’m actually gonna run and talk to Benny for a minute. Just remembered I had something to tell him. I’ll be right back.”

Claire snorted. “Don’t lie. We all know you’re just rebelling against Moms One and Two.”

Dean grabbed his crutches. “Yeah? Well..._ you’re _rebelling.”

“Smooth.”

“Shut up,” Dean grumbled as he hobbled away. 

Castiel smiled at their banter. He really was glad to be here. They had sat in silence for a while, Castiel waiting and the others enjoying their meal, when Castiel noticed Claire eyeing him strangely. She shook her head and went back to eating. After another moment, he saw her smirking at him again, staring at his chest. He looked down, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. He looked back up at her questioningly.

She rolled her eyes and pointed to the top of his shirt. “It looks stupid like that.”

He scowled down at himself again, running his hands over the dark blue shirt Dean had given him. _ Looks better on you anyway, _ he had said. “I- I don’t understand.” Castiel liked this shirt.

She set down her fork. “Look, just…” She reached across the table and yanked at one of the laces to untie it, then pulled at the collar a bit to open it up before settling back on her side of the table. “This isn’t one of your navy uniforms okay? It ain’t meant to be laced up tight all the way to the top. Besides,” she gave Jack a knowing look, “I wanna see Dean’s face when he gets back.”

Soon, Jody and Donna were back with Dean in tow, who, Castiel thought, looked very proud of himself. Jody and Donna set several plates down and sat, but Dean just stood there, staring at Castiel. 

Castiel followed Dean’s eyes down to his own chest, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. “Um, Claire said it was better this way.”

Dean seemed to shake himself out of whatever trance he was in and laughed awkwardly as he sat. “She’s not wrong.”

Claire smirked at them as she took a bite. “You’re welcome, Dean.”

“Shaddup.”

Dean stepped up onto the quarterdeck. His leg screamed at him, but he ignored it. Sam nodded at him from the helm. Dean grit his teeth. 

Sam had been all but avoiding him the last few days. Dean knew what needed to happen, but he’d never been good at this stuff. He huffed and sat down on the deck near the helm, leaning back against the railing. “Hiya, Sammy.”

“Hey.”

Silence.

Dean looked up at his brother. “Is there...something you wanna talk about?”

Sam pursed his lips. “No.”

He looked sad. _ Fuck. _That was so much worse than angry. Dean put his head in his hands. “I do. Got somethin’ to say, that is.”

“It’s fine, Dean.”

“No, it’s not.” He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”

There was silence for a while. “You said you’d be right behind me,” Sam finally whispered.

“I know.”

“You were planning on going the whole time. That’s why you told me to go back to the ship. You knew I wouldn’t have let you go.”

Dean scrubbed a hand over his face. “Yeah.”

“So, you were just going to _ leave_? Not even say bye and just...just be gone? Dean, if Cas hadn’t...who knows how long it would have taken for us to realize what had happened to you. They could have been long gone with you! You could have been gone and- and…” Sam tightened his grip on the wheel.

Dean leaned his head back. “Thought you didn’t have anything to say.”

“Fuck you, Dean. Do you have any idea what it was like sitting out in that rowboat waiting for Cas to bust you out? Do you know how hard it was not to just get everyone and tear that ship apart piece by piece? Cas had a plan to get you out, said the _ Impala _ wouldn’t stand up in a one-to-one fight, but that he could get you out without getting us killed. But I…” Sam looked on the verge of tears. They’d had a hard life. Still, Dean wasn’t even sure he remembered the last time he’d seen Sam cry. 

Dean reached his hand up for Sam to help him stand. Once on his feet, Dean didn’t say anything, just wrapped his little brother in a tight hug.

Sam slowly returned the hug, letting out a shaky breath. “I chose to trust him, Dean...’cause that’s _ what we do. _ We don’t just run off on our own and get ourselves caught. _ You _ taught me that. So, next time you get the idea to do anything stupid, don’t. Talk to me, and we’ll deal with it like we always do: together.”

Dean clapped Sam on the back and leaned back so he could look at him. “I’m sorry, Sammy. Really. I was being stupid. I shouldn’t have lied to you.”

Sam dropped his head. “Yeah...yeah, okay. Don’t get me wrong. I’m pissed, but...I get it. Just don’t…” He looked back up at Dean. “Don’t run off like that again, okay?” 

Dean nodded. “Yeah. Together. We face things together. Sorry I forgot that.”

Sam studied Dean for a moment as Dean released him to back up and lean against the railing. Sam shook his head. “You’re really taken with him, aren’t you…”

Dean almost fell. “What?” 

Rather than words, Sam responded with his best bitchface.

Dean groaned and rubbed a hand over his face. “Do we have to talk about it?”

“Not if you don’t want to.”

“I don’t.”

“Fair enough.” They stood in silence for a moment before Sam looked at him and smirked. “Heard Charlie referring to you guys as ‘Destiel’ earlier.”

Dean rested his head on the railing and groaned; Sam continued, “That doesn’t even make sense anyway. Shouldn’t it be, like, ‘DEAstiel’?”

Dean looked at his brother. “_That’s _ your issue with this?”

Sam laughed. “No, of course not. But you know, how about ‘Sastiel’...’Samstiel’? I mean, if _ you’re _ not gonna go for it...”

“Okay, you know what? You’re gonna do that thing...where you just shut the hell up...forever.”

“CasDean?”

“Ugh!” Dean snatched his crutch to leave.

“Hey, Dean?”

Dean rolled his eyes and turned around. “_ What? _”

“Even if you don’t wanna talk to me...you probably _ should _ talk to _ Cas. _”

Dean thought back to the night when Cas had almost kissed him, to the next morning when he had actually _ tried _to talk to him about it but chickened out. 

He turned to leave. “Yeah, Sammy. I know.”

That night, Dean lay in bed unable to sleep, excruciatingly aware of who was sleeping at his feet. It was like every part of him could feel Cas’s presence. He had been in the connecting bunk before, and they had slept in neighboring cots down in the sick bay...but this felt different. If Dean wanted, he could literally stretch out on the too short bunk, and his feet would tangle into Cas’s. Dean was tempted. It _ could _ be totally by accident. These bunks hadn't exactly been built with tall people in mind. It had always been annoying. Now, Dean didn’t quite mind.

He let his eyes wander down past the end of his bunk to look at Cas and almost jumped out of his skin. Instead of sleeping, Cas was just sitting upright in his bed, staring at him.

“Jesus! Cas, I thought you were asleep.” Dean kept his voice low, since there were three others in the room who actually _ were _ sleeping. “Anyone ever tell you it’s creepy to just sit there and watch people?”

Cas made a face. “I apologize.” He lay down and turned to curl up on his side.

Dean rubbed his face. “No, Cas. It’s fine...just surprised me is all. You got something on your mind?”

“No.”

“Come on, Cas.”

“No.”

Dean propped up on his elbows. “Aw, what is it, Cas? You need to cuddle?” He chuckled. “That’s it, isn’t it. You just need someone to hold you while you sleep, hu-umph!” A pillow suddenly swung down from the top bunk, hitting Dean in the face.

“Go. To. Sleep.”

Dean snatched the pillow from his brother’s hand before he could pull it back. “Oh, so sorry to wake you, Your Highness.”

“Dean...” Sam leaned over the edge of his bunk to look down at him. It was dark, but Dean didn’t need to see to know what kind of expression Sam was wearing. “I swear if you don’t-”

They paused as Jack stirred on the other side of the room.

Dean huffed. “Yeah, yeah. Okay.” Dean pushed the pillow into his brother’s face and plopped back down on his own, sulking. “Don’t know why you’re mad at me...he started it.” He glanced down at Cas and chuckled as Sam groaned from his place above. “All right, fine. Night, guys.”

A thought occurred to Dean as he lay there: maybe he should stick with what he knew. Dean _ wanted _ to talk to Cas, but Dean wasn’t good at talking.

Dean was good at _ flirting_... 

Maybe...he wouldn’t have to talk to Cas after all. Maybe he could just, you know, flirt with him until he got some kind of response, something to let Dean know the other night wasn’t some sort of fluke.

That would work, right?


	25. A Dangerous Game

_ I never thought I needed saving _

_ I was right where I should be _

_ Good God, I know it's dangerous _

_ But it's you that I need _

_ I'm in love this time _

_ I'm in love this time _

_ What have I done? _

_ ~ What Have I Done (Dermot Kennedy) _

Over the following week, Dean _ tried _to flirt with Cas. Dammit, he did...relentlessly. He pulled out every trick he knew, but the guy seriously refused to take a goddamn hint. Cas gave him nothing. Actually, it was worse than that: Cas seemed to become more and more annoyed with Dean as the days passed by.

Dean had broken down a few times and tried to just say it, tried to come out and tell Cas how badly he wished they hadn’t been interrupted that night...morning...whatever. He tried to work up the nerve to just grab Cas and kiss him when words failed. But, for all Dean’s bluster and cockiness that he wore as a mask, he was just too insecure about the whole thing to simply come out and tell Cas how he felt.

Dean was becoming more and more convinced that whatever had almost happened between them...actually meant nothing. The way Cas had acted was just a product of adrenaline and blood loss and haze. Maybe Dean’s similar state had made him imagine things. He had to stop. Cas was obviously not into him, and all Dean was likely accomplishing was making him regret being there.

The evening they made it to New Orleans, Dean walked into their room to see Cas standing in front of his bed, leaning his head on his arms that were crossed against the top bunk. 

Dean shuffled behind him awkwardly. “Hey, Cas. We made it. Sam and Charlie’ll have us docked and ready to go in thirty. We should be prepared to head out.” 

Cas just nodded. 

Dean sighed. _ Fine_. 

Dean could feel the hole trying to open in his chest, but he ignored it. He pushed down his frustrating infatuation so he could be the friend Cas needed; because, whether it had anything to do with him or not, _ something _ was clearly wrong. They had a few minutes. Maybe Cas would talk to him. “Hey. Are- are you okay, buddy?”

Castiel groaned against his arms. Of _ course _ Dean would find him here trying to hide. Castiel had been unable to escape him this week. He had tried to kiss Dean. Dean had run away. Why couldn’t Dean just leave him alone? How was he supposed to _ deal _ with the way that he felt for Dean when Dean kept following him around like this?

“I’m fine, Dean,” he responded, not even having the energy to hide the frustration in his voice.

“You’re obviously not.”

“Go. Away.”

“Woah. Haha, uh, someone’s in a bad mood, huh?”

Yes. Yes, of _ course _Castiel was in a bad mood...because at some point, he had fallen in love with this ridiculous, frustrating pirate who seemed to think that love was a joke and who had been flirting with him relentlessly for the last week to make fun of him for it. Even the other crew members seemed to be in on it. 

Dean was wild, playful, and Castiel liked that about him. But what he _ loved _ about Dean was his heart, his kindness...and at the moment, Castiel was beginning to question that kindness as it pertained to him.

He felt Dean step up behind him, close. Castiel could almost feel the heat coming off of him. He felt Dean lay a careful hand on his shoulder. “Cas...Cas, talk to me.”

Castiel almost choked. _ Ah, _ he thought, _ there’s that soft side. _ This was actually worse. Castiel wanted to cry. He wanted to scream. He wanted Dean to leave. He wanted him to stay. He-

“Look, Cas. I...I don’t know what happened, but...whatever I did wrong, I’m sorry.”

_ He doesn’t...Whatever he… _

Okay...that was _ it_. Castiel had had _ enough. _

Dean gasped as Cas spun around, picked him up by the thighs, and pinned him to the wall. 

“What you_ did, _ Dean?”

Cas was angry, obviously angry, but...fuck, it was _ something. _“Tell me what I did,” Dean breathed.

Even as anger and lightning flashed in Cas’s eyes, one hand snaked up Dean’s side and neck to cup the side of his head. Those eyes played over Dean’s face, Cas’s fingers curled up into Dean’s hair. Dean gulped as Cas pressed in close, easily holding him pinned to the wall despite his injuries.

“What you did...Dean, you’ve been toying with me.” It wasn’t a question. “All of the flirting, making fun of me...I know that you’re toying with me.” Cas pressed impossibly closer, his breath ghosting over Dean’s lips. “But this is a dangerous game, Dean. You shouldn’t push me.” His voice grew smaller. “Please...don’t push me.”

_ Wait. _ Cas thought he was _ ...Oh, screw it. _

Dean kissed him. He wasn’t sure who the joke was on today, but Dean wasn’t playing at all. He grabbed Cas’s face and crushed their mouths together. His unhealed leg screamed at him as he tightened it around Cas’s waist for better leverage. He wrapped his arms over Cas’s shoulders and let one hand grip into that ungodly mess of hair the way he’d wanted to since he met him. 

Cas gasped and almost dropped him, but it didn’t take long for him to start giving back as good as he got. He pushed Dean harder against the wall and moaned into his mouth. When Dean came up gasping for air, Cas started on his neck. _ Fuck. _“Cas, I-”

“Shut. Up.” 

Cas gripped him tight and carried him across the room, falling with him into the bunk. Dean gasped, but if Cas thought that Dean would protest, he was wrong. Dean looked breathlessly up into those fucking blue eyes and reached up to trace his fingers along Cas’s jaw, his lips. 

Cas groaned and crushed their mouths back together as he crawled up over Dean. Dean tightened his grip in Cas’s hair, clung to his back with the other arm, tightened his legs around him and pulled Cas flush against him. Cas gasped and Dean swallowed it. He ran his tongue along those pink lips that he’d been dying to wet, licked into that beautiful mouth that he’d been dying to taste. 

Dean wondered if Cas was just emotional, if he was just letting off steam after a long week; but hoped not, because God...Dean was suddenly certain that he would _ never _ have enough of this.

The door opened, and Bobby’s gruff voice asserted itself into the room.

“Hey, boys. Look, I really hate to break this up, but...we got a situation up top.”


	26. The Lowland Sea

_ Then up spoke our cabin boy and boldly out spoke he _

_ And he said to our captain, "What will you give to me _

_ If I swim along the side of the Spanish enemy _

_ And I sink her in the lowland sea?" _

_ "Oh I will give you silver and I will give you gold _

_ And my own fair daughter your bonny bride shall be _

_ If you'll swim along the side of the Spanish enemy _

_ And you'll sink her in the lowland, lowland, lowland _

_ Sink her in the lowland sea” _

_ ~ The Golden Vanity (shanty) _

Dean dropped his head onto the mattress as Bobby shut the door behind him. “_Really?_”

“They do seem to have a talent for interrupting things, yes.” Cas rested his head on Dean’s chest. “Dean, I- I know we don’t have time to talk about this now, but…”

“Yeah.” Dean tightened his arms around him. “We don’t, but...” _ Come on, Dean. You can at least say this much. _ “Just so we’re clear, I may joke around a lot, but I- I was never ‘toying’ with you, Cas.” He felt Cas’s breath hitch. “I don’t know where your head is. We can talk later...or not, if you’d rather that. If you want, we can act like this didn’t happen, but...I wasn’t playing with you. I need you to know that.”

Cas lifted his head to look at him, his eyes unreadable. Dean wanted to know what he was thinking. He wanted to kiss that little crease out of his forehead. He wanted to know what Cas wanted from him. He sighed. _ Later, _ he told himself. Hopefully. Assuming Cas wanted to…

Dammit, Dean hoped he got a later.

He took Cas’s face in his hands and kissed him one more time, gently, barely, and hoped that it wasn’t the last time he got to do so. “Okay,” he whispered against Cas’s lips, telling himself he had to let go now. “Let’s go see what kind of trouble we’re in.”

Cas nodded. Dean fought the urge to cling to him as Cas slipped from his arms. He was sure for a moment that Cas had taken the air with him. His chest ached. He didn’t want to let go. He wanted to have this conversation _ now _. He wanted to grab Cas and kiss the shit out of him and forget about whatever was happening outside.

Instead, he took a deep breath, stood, and gave Cas one last, longing look before opening the door.

Castiel followed Dean out into the sticky evening air. There was just a sliver of light left on the western horizon. They had made it to Louisiana. To the south, a ship came into focus: _ his _ ship. 

Castiel’s eyes wandered up the mast. They were waving a white flag. _ Strange_. What was left to talk about? At this point, both Castiel’s allegiances and Dean’s stance on cooperation were clear.

_ Why don’t they just attack? _

The_ Impala _ had an impressive arsenal for a midsize galleon; Dean had seen to that with all of his renovations, but _ The King’s Grace _ was a _ Téméraire- _ class seventy-four gun naval ship. In a stand-off, the _ Impala _ didn’t have a chance. _ What were they doing? _

“Maybe they come in peace.” Castiel thought aloud. “Many of my crew were left. If Balthazar returned and resumed command…”

“If only.” Dean held out a spyglass for Castiel to take. 

Even in the fading light, he could make out the familiar outline. “Zachariah...he survived.”

“Seems so.” 

“Dean, we have to run.”

“Cas…” Dean stood next to him, watching the ship sail in. “The wind’s coming out of the south, against us and with them. We’re pinned against the beach. We won’t get around them.”

Castiel stared out at the ship. Dean was right; he knew Dean was right. _ The King’s Grace _ was already too close. He looked back up at the flag and drew a deep breath.

He would have to confront Zachariah. It was the only way. He could feel Dean tensing next to him; Dean must have known it, too. After all, if Castiel did not find a way to diffuse this situation, the_ Impala _ would be destroyed...and that couldn’t happen.

He turned to look at Dean, suddenly aware that they may never get to have_ their _ talk. Castiel would go talk to Zachariah, and depending on what deal was struck...or not...Castiel may never stand next to Dean again. 

“Dean, whatever happens-”

“No.” 

“I need to-”

“You can tell me when this is over.”

“Dean, listen. I’ll go talk to them, but I don’t know what’s going to happen. So, before I go, I need you to know that...even if I started out as a hostage, even though I’m now hunted...I have never been more free than I have been here. Thank you for that. Thank all of you.”

Castiel watched Dean’s lips tighten, his brows draw together, his breathing quicken. He was angry, but he didn’t argue. _ Good. _ Castiel turned to leave, and-

“Garth, Jack, ready the gundeck.”

Castiel spun around. “Dean, no. You have no chance in a stand-off. You’ll be obliterated. You’ll-”

Dean ignored him. “Claire, prepare the mortars. Rufus, Bobby, get everyone to their stations. Sam, be ready at the helm. They have more firepower, but we have the advantage in maneuverability. We’ll outdance them.”

“Dean!” Castiel grabbed Dean by the shoulders. “This is suicide. You can’t do this. I won’t _ let _ you do this. You, everyone, you mean too much to the world. You mean too much to _ me.” _

“Cas, we don’t have a choice…”

Castiel gripped Dean’s shirt and yanked him in, inches from his face. _ The King’s Grace _ was on them now. “I did not rebel for _ this_!” 

“So, what do you suggest we do, Cas?! I don’t care what flag they’re waving right now. You _ know _ they can’t be trusted...Cas? CAS!”

But Castiel wasn’t listening. Grappling hooks were already being thrown to reel the_ Impala _ in. Castiel grabbed one of his own from a pile and slung it over the beam of his old ship’s top sail. He had not rescued Dean just so that he and the others could die. Castiel pulled the rope tight and jumped.

Dean stood gaping as he watched Cas land on the deck of the enemy ship. Benny’s voice cut through his daze. “I assume this changes things, brother?”

Dean’s mind was reeling. _ Yes, it fucking changes things. Think, Dean. Think, goddammit! _ He grabbed Benny’s arm and looked up with wide eyes. “Yeah, new plan...” He looked around frantically. “Charlie. I need Charlie...and all the gunpowder we have.”

“Okay?” Benny let out the long, slow whistle that was Charlie’s call. It wasn’t long before Charlie came bounding up.

“Sup, bitches.”

Dean put a hand on her shoulder. “Chuck, you know that song “The Golden Vanity”?

Charlie smirked in understanding. “You gonna let me marry your daughter?”

Dean let out a tired laugh. “No, but I do need you to take a swim. I’ll join Cas and help keep their focus on their own deck. We’re lucky it’s getting dark.”

Benny caught Dean’s arm. “What’s going on, brother?”

Dean looked at him with a grin. “They’re a warship, right? So, let’s use all that firepower against them.”


	27. Breaking the Mask

_ Well, I felt the burn _

_ Since the day you departed and talked from the tomb _

_ I'm still healing those wounds _

_ And it holds me down _

_ But made me a man that says _

_ "Fuck all those rules, I will be who I choose" _

_ … _

_ Tell me what you know _

_ I'm in deeper than I've ever been _

_ I will never grow _

_ While this anchor is chained to my feet _

_ ~ The Mask (Matt Maeson) _

Castiel’s feet hit the deck. He raised to his full stature and stared down Zachariah. “I see you survived.”

“As did you. I guess we both failed.”

Castiel glanced around. “Uriel’s not with you.”

“He wasn’t so lucky.”

Castiel shook his head. “I only desired to free someone who did not belong in chains. I didn’t want...” Castiel froze, his eyes having landed on a figure coming to stand next to Zachariah.

_ His half-brother, Raphael. _

Raphael raised his eyebrows at Castiel. “So, the favored son has decided we are worth an audience after all. I told Zachariah you would be too much of a coward.”

Castiel swallowed. “I believe that ‘favored’ would be an inaccurate description of my place among you.” 

He heard a thud behind him and turned to see what it was. 

_ No… _“Dean...what are you doing?”

Dean glared at him. “What? You’re the only one who gets to improvise?” Dean stepped up beside him and rested a hand on his sword, slinging the other arm over Castiel’s shoulders. He raised his chin to Zachariah and Raphael. “Sup, dickheads?”

Zachariah sneered and stepped forward but was stopped by Raphael’s hand across his chest.

“Wait. We still have a message to deliver.” He faced Castiel. “You are being given one last chance to repent. I am here to take you back to Michael.”

Dean leaned over to him. “Michael. Like..._ Prince_, Michael?”

Castiel ignored the question. “If I go with you, Raphael, can you guarantee the safety of the_ Impala _ and her crew?”

Dean gripped Castiel’s arm. “Dude..._ Raphael_?”

Raphael narrowed his eyes at Dean before responding. “The sea is a wild place, Castiel. How could I guarantee their safety? As for whether or not _ we _ are at odds with them, Dean is the one who chose that. We offered a way of peace.”

Dean spoke up next to him. “Yeah, well your way sucks.”

“Mind your tone, boy,” Zachariah warned.

“Bite me.”

Raphael turned a dangerous gaze to him. “Castiel, you have indulged this rabble long enough. Leave with me, and we will wipe their stain from the earth. Come home, Castiel. Our brother wishes to see you.”

Dean’s arm fell from Castiel’s shoulders. Castiel could practically _ feel _ Dean’s questioning gaze boring into him. He clenched his fists. _ Later. _ “Our brother can go to hell. I stand with Dean.”

Raphael’s eyes narrowed. “So be it.”

Dean’s heartbeat quickened as Zachariah called for cannons to be made ready. This was it, but hadn’t been long enough yet. They needed more time. _ Shit. _ He looked at Cas. _ Well, _ he thought, _ I told Charlie I’d try to keep their attention up here. Let’s see what two half-injured pirates can do, I guess... _

He drew his sword. “Hey, Zach!” He lunged, running his sword right through Zachariah’s surprised expression. “Told you I’d stab you in the face, you son of a bitch.” Dean pulled his sword out with a grunt, letting Zachariah’s corpse fall to the floor. 

And they were off. 

Dean blocked a soldier’s sword while Cas and Raphael - Cas’s brother, apparently - charged each other. Dean stored the family information away for later and cut through his next opponent. He concentrated as they fought, listening for Benny’s signal for the time to go. Still, he could hear Cas and Raphael’s voices over the sound of their clanging swords.

“I told Father it was foolish to take you in.”

Cas grunted as he parried. “I’m sure you’re pleased to be right.”

“When your whore mother was expelled from the Queen’s service, that should have been the end of it. You are only here at all by the King’s grace, Castiel.”

“Shut up.”

There were a few soldiers, Dean noticed, who seemed to be fighting against the rest of Zachariah and Raphael’s men. Dean grabbed the one closest to him, a woman with long red hair. “Hey! What’s going on here?”

The woman ducked an incoming blow and stood back-to-back with Dean. “We follow Castiel,” she answered simply. “Not all of us would see him or the people we’ve helped come to harm.”

“How many of you are there?” Dean yelled.

“Fourteen!”

_ Shit. _Well, this was good...but it meant that Dean couldn’t simply grab Cas and bail when the time came...Wait, maybe these people could help Charlie!

“All right, listen! I need you to get everyone in your group and get to the gundeck. There should be another redhead and company down there making trouble. Help her. And then you get your asses off this ship! Don’t come back for us. I’ll make sure Cas is safe. You got that?”

She measured Dean for a moment before reaching out and clasping his arm. “Understood. I’ll see you on the other side.” 

A cry to Dean’s left made him turn to see Cas driving Raphael back. “YOU KILLED THEM!”

Raphael ducked under Cas’s sword and turned as he stood, slashing upward at Cas. “I did what should have been done when your mother was found pregnant with you. But apparently, our father had a soft spot for servant girls.” He pushed back. “Do you think I would let him find out there had been _ two _of you, that you had a twin? I was already sharing my inheritance with one bastard!” Raphael roared and kicked Cas back. “What is it you hope to accomplish, Castiel? Even if you escape me today, we will find you. Lucifer, Gabriel, Michael...do you think they will stand for this betrayal?” 

Dean threw an opponent overboard. More were flooding to the top deck...

Raphael’s voice and the clash of his sword against Cas’s carried over the battle. “You have no idea what you’re doing, Castiel! Do you have any idea of the wrath that you are calling down upon you?”

Dean was trying to stay close to Cas, trying to fight the hoards of men that were flooding up through the hatch, trying to keep a path to the side of the ship clear...this couldn’t continue this way. They were being surrounded. Why was it taking so long? Was Charlie okay?

Raphael blocked an incoming blow. They pushed against each other, swords crossed. Raphael leaned in. “You have no plan, Castiel, no future. How do you think that you and this crew of miscreants will succeed or even survive?”

Cas headbutted him. “Yeah, well, we’re making it up as we go.”

Raphael stumbled back and shook his head, surprised. He quickly recovered and sneered. “This will not end well for you.” He charged forward.

Cas dodged an incoming swing.

“WE WILL END EVERY LAST ONE OF YOU.”

Dean was exhausted, fighting to keep a fucking army from closing in on them. He frantically looked back and forth between Cas and the _ Impala. Where the fuck was that signal? _

Cas parried and swept Raphael’s legs from beneath him. He knocked the sword from Raphael’s hand. Raphael reached for his pistol, but Cas was faster. He stood over Raphael now, pistol drawn, looking down at his brother.

“Maybe you’re right, Raphael. Perhaps I have called down the wrath of Heaven, and this will all end poorly, but I’m done being a pawn; and tonight...you’re my little bitch. I couldn't stop you from killing James or my mother, but I'm stopping you now." He cocked his pistol and added in a quiet voice, “You'll never hurt my family again.”

Castiel’s shot rang out across the water. Raphael’s body slumped to the deck.

As the rest of the force pressed in around them, a series of whistles reached Dean’s ears. _ Finally! _

Dean grabbed Cas’s arm. “Come on, Cas! Time to get out of here!”

Cas looked a little dazed, but he followed Dean to the edge of the ship and accepted the rope Dean handed him. Dean grabbed another and stepped up on the railing, pulling Cas to join him.

“Come on, Cas. I ain’t jumping ‘til you do. I still ain’t forgot the last time.”

Cas rolled his eyes but acquiesced, coming out of his stupor. “That’s fair.”

Cas jumped and Dean followed. As soon as they’d both landed safely on the_ Impala_, Dean spun and began cutting the lines that tethered the two ships together.

“Charlie!” he yelled behind him. “Give me every inch of sail you got! Sammy! Get us the hell out of here!”

_ The King’s Grace _ exploded behind them.

The_ Impala _lurched forward from the force of the blast. Someone screamed to take cover as burning debris rained down around them, catching the mizen and top sails on fire. As Sam steered them away from the burning ship, the others rushed to untie the rigging, letting the affected sails fall, so that the fires could be put out and not allowed to spread. 

Dean collapsed onto the deck, exhausted. They’d made it. Charlie had come through. They’d somehow pulled it off. He looked up to see Cas standing to his left, face slack, staring at the burning vessel as they sailed away.

“Cas, you all right?” Dean asked, still trying to calm down himself.

Cas blinked, turning to him briefly before looking back over the water. “I…” He sighed and shook his head. “No, not really.”

Dean grunted as he stood up beside him. He studied Cas as he watched his ship burn. “Cas, I-” he swallowed, “I’m sorry about your ship, and...you know…” He thought of Raphael. Whatever else the man had been, he had still been Cas’s brother. ”Everything.”

“As am I," Cas said softly. He took a deep breath, then continued, "But I don't regret it. This was about saving people. And besides, I…” Cas sighed, finally turning away from the burning ship. “I don’t need _The_ _King’s Grace_ anymore.”


	28. Like Real People Do

_ Can you tell me that you're real so I can really know _

_ That everything I feel I can finally show _

_ Standing next to me oh the person I can be _

_ Is finally here and he won't back down at all _

_ ~ Not Broken Anymore (Blue October) _

Dean stirred and rolled over in his bunk, wondering what time it was. He could see through the little, round window in their room that it was still dark out...so, he must not have slept for too long.

It had been late by the time they’d all gone to bed. They had sailed out a ways before coming back to anchor several miles down the coast. They still needed to go to New Orleans, but that could be done in the morning now that the immediate threat had been dealt with. Besides, the last thing they needed was to be seen hanging around a French colony right next to a navy ship they’d just sunk. In the morning, they’d make port at Baton Rouge and find a few horses to travel to New Orleans more discreetly from there.

Dean lay in his bed, trying to go back to sleep so he could get his few hours in before the next day began. He listened to the rhythmic breathing of the others in the room: Benny and Jack on the other side, Sam’s light snoring above him...someone was missing.

Dean looked down past his feet to Cas’s bunk, which was empty. He tried to ignore it and go back to sleep but only succeeded in this for, oh, about seventeen seconds before he rolled out of bed and quietly padded to the door, down the corridor, and out into the night air.

_ Ah, there he is. _

Cas stood at the forward, leaning against the railing, looking back over the ship. The scene reminded Dean of a similar situation from when Cas had first joined them. Dean laughed to himself. It felt strange to think that not long ago, he and Cas hadn’t trusted each other, hadn’t been friends.

_ Friends. _

Dean stood still for a moment, staring at Cas, wondering at the way the moonlight soaked his features and how his eyes seemed so bright even in the darkness. It wasn’t long before those eyes fell on Dean. 

Dean took a deep breath and started walking towards him. _ Breathe, _ he reminded himself. _ Just breathe. _

He came to a stop a few feet away and resisted the urge to look down at his feet. “Hey, Cas,” he breathed.

Cas’s eyes were soft. His lips formed into a barely there smile. “Hello, Dean.”

“Couldn’t sleep?”

Cas shook his head. “I don’t sleep much.”

“Noticed.” Dean chuckled. “I don’t either, but it seems like I’ve got some competition in that department now.” He sighed. There was so much he wanted to ask, wanted to say, but he didn’t know how to bring it up. Then again, not talking had gotten him into trouble before so...“Uh, Cas, can we talk?”

Cas studied him. “I think we should.”

Dean leaned against the railing beside Cas, looking out over the water. He let his mind wander over the evening’s events and the things he’d overheard Raphael and Cas talking about. He thought back to the talks that he and Cas had had about parents and destiny and paths being chosen for you. He shook his head, deciding to try that topic first. “So, your old man really _ is _some big shot, huh…”

Cas’s mouth twitched. “You could say that,” he responded.

Dean chuckled, remembering their last conversation about parents. He raised an eyebrow. “You wanna talk about it?”

Cas hung his head, giving him the same answer as before. “Not particularly.” 

“Sure thing, Your Highness,” Dean said with a wink.

Cas closed his eyes and leaned his head back. “I’m sorry, Dean.” He paused, seemingly searching for the right words. “I should have been more clear about who I was before coming aboard your ship, but it was...nice being around people who didn’t know everything about me. I didn’t expect it to become relevant, but I ended up endangering you and your crew. I should have told you.”

Dean studied him for a moment, then shrugged. “We’re kind of always in danger. Comes with the job.” Dean shook his head. “Look, Cas, I ain’t gonna say it wouldn’t have been nice to have a heads up as to what we were getting into, but...I get it. And I don’t think there’s a single person aboard who wouldn’t. Hell, who doesn’t have something about them or in their past or whatever that it’d be nice to pretend didn’t exist sometimes? So, I get wanting people to see you as you and not a label, trust me.”

Cas let out a shaky breath. “Thank you, Dean,” he whispered quietly. 

They both stood in silence for a while, listening to the sound of the water against the ship. Eventually, Cas sighed heavily and turned to face him. “There is, I think, something else that we should talk about…”

Dean swallowed and gripped the railing. “We don’t really have to talk about that either if you don’t want to.”

“I want to, Dean.”

Dean closed his eyes and nodded, bracing himself for whatever Cas had to say.

“Earlier tonight, or…” Cas looked up at the sky, the first signs of morning beginning to leak into it, “yesterday, I suppose...you said you weren’t toying with me.”

“I wasn’t. But I just...I don’t know why you would...look, Cas, I know you’re not really into romance and stuff, so it’s fine, okay?” He laughed nervously. “Believe me, if anyone understands that kissing someone once doesn’t necessarily mean that you want to do it again, it’s me. So, if you were just curious or blowing off steam or whatever, then I get it.”

Cas looked at him as though in disbelief, then shook his head laughed quietly. “You’re an idiot.” 

“Well, you’re a...more...idiot.”

“Articulate as ever.”

Dean threw up his hands. “Well, Cas, what am I _ supposed _ to say?”

Cas stepped into his space, looking irritated. His face was only inches from Dean’s. “You could start my telling me what you _ want_, Dean.”

“I- I kind of have, right?”

“Be clearer.”

“I want _ you_, Cas!”

“You _ have _ me, Dean.”

“And I want you to stay!”

“I _ am _ staying! So, what _ else _ do you want?!”

“I fucking want to kiss you!”

“Good!” 

“Well?! What do _ you _ want?”

“I FUCKING WANT YOU TO!” 

Dean froze, Cas’s words bouncing around in his head, unable to be understood. “_Why? _”

Cas’s face softened. He reached for Dean. “You don’t see yourself clearly, Dean Winchester, but I do.” He pressed their foreheads together. “And at some point, my existence...seems to have reshaped itself around you.”

Dean’s voice was shaky. “What do you want from me, Cas?”

“I want you to let me love you,” Cas whispered.

Dean almost choked.

Castiel sighed dropped his hands, leaning back to give Dean at least some space. He quietly watched the emotions that played across Dean’s face as he seemed to process Castiel’s words. 

There had been frustration as he yelled what he wanted; at Castiel’s words that he could have it..._surprise_. 

Now, Dean licked his lips as his eyes wandered down to Castiel’s mouth. Castiel shuddered. _ Want. _He watched as Dean chewed at his own bottom lip and a little crease formed in the center of his brow. _ Fear? _ Then Dean clenched his fists and jaw. _ Determination_.

Dean slowly reached for Castiel, a question in his eyes. Castiel waited as those green eyes played over his face, finally coming to rest on his lips. 

“Cas…”

Castiel sighed. “Yes, Dean?”

Dean’s fingers traced lightly over Castiel’s shoulders, down his arms. One hand came to rest softly on the small of Castiel’s back as Dean leaned closer, his other hand finding a home on the side of Castiel’s neck. Castiel sighed and leaned into the touch.

Dean licked his lips. “You said you wanted me to kiss you.”

“Yes.”

Dean’s voice was barely a whisper. “Um...can I do it _ now_?”

Castiel let out a shuddery breath. “I think I might combust if you don’t.”

Dean chuckled and leaned in, timidly brushing his lips against Castiel’s before drawing back to search Castiel’s eyes.

Castiel wound his arms behind Dean’s back and pulled him back in, answering the unspoken question by capturing Dean’s lips with his own.

_ Who knew... _Castiel thought. Who knew that those same eyes that were usually so full of mischief could look so afraid? Who knew that Dean’s normally confident hands could seem so cautious? Who knew that someone so wild could be so soft? Who knew that this warrior could be so...gentle.

And who knew that kissing a pirate could feel like coming home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title for this chapter comes from Hozier's "Like Real People Do"
> 
> I will not ask you where you came from  
I will not ask you, neither should you  
Honey just put your sweet lips on my lips  
We should just kiss like real people do

**Author's Note:**

> [Ocean's Brawl Spotify Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3qiO1yMpQYrS1AMIwAxva9)  



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